HOUSE 


Dawn 


MA  OAH  fS  RYAN 

1  LrvrYrMJ     L-iJLJLjiitJ;-;  Iva/ilX 


LIBRARY 

CALIFORNIA 

SAN  DIEGO 


BOOTH 


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^ 


of  tfje 


Books  by  Marah  Ellis  Ryan 


THE  HOUSE  OF  THE  DAWN.  Illus 
trated  by  Hanson  Booth.  Crown  8vo.  net  $1.35 

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A.  C.  McClurg  &  Co.  Publishers 
Chicago 


When  Sancha  Dared  the  Trail  Alone. 


[Page  214] 


House  of  ike  Damn 


In, 

MARAH  ELLIS  RYAN. 


A-utKcxr 
"Irtdietn,  Love  Letters" 
"For  iKe  Scml  of  Raf  euel" 
"The  Womaa  of  the  Twilightretc 


riktstrated  and  Decorated 


CHICAGO 

A.  c.  MCCLURG  &  co. 

1914 


Copyright 

A.  C.  McCLURG  &  CO. 

1914 


Published  October,   1914 
Copyrighted  in  Great  Britain 


I.  y.  %M  Printing  Co.. 


3To  nuj 
Jfrtenfcs,  2U&,  ano  Hfjtt?, 

of  tfje 
inhtan  lesfert 


CONTENTS 

Chapter  Page 

I     Don  Juan  Tells  It 1 

II    The  Betrothal 7 

III  The  Things  Forbidden 19 

IV  In  Mexico 33 

V  The  Lesson  of  Lispanos  to  Heretical  Souls    47 

VI     Tristan  the  Ranger 62 

VII  The  Amusements  of  Dona  Perfecta  .       .     84 

VIII     Sancha  to  Alphard 98 

IX     The  Trial  of  the  Faith 109 

X     The  Coming  of  Sancha 138 

XI  The  Passing  of  the  Penitents     .       .       .157 

XII     The  Love  Trail 169 

XIII  The  New  Master  of  Camp    .       .      .      .191 

XIV  Riding  the  Trail  Alone 211 

XV    The  Finding  of  Anita 236 

XVI     In  the  Painted  Desert 260 

XVII  Among  the  Serpent  People     .       .       .       .290 

XVIII  The  Canon  of  the  Divine  Ones    .      .      .317 

XIX     The  End  of  the  Trail 349 

XX  On  Santa  Fe  Hill  in  New  Granada     .       .  368 

XXI  The  Insurrection  of  1680       .       .       .       .384 

XXII  Under  Blessings  of  Pagan  Gods      .       .  399 


ILLUSTRATIONS 

Page 

When  Sancha  dared  the  trail  alone  .     .      Frontispiece 

The  recognition       166 

The  finding  of  Anita       256 

The  excommunicated  lovers    ...  .  400 


The  House  of  the  Dawn 


CHAPTER   I 
DON  JUAN  TELLS  IT 

I,  too,  Perdida,  would  venture  my  soul 
If  your  heart  true  should  love  me! 
If  your  lips  red  should  touch  me! 
I,  too,  Querida,  would  venture  a  soul 
If  your  white  hand  should  lead  me! 

UNDER  my  balcony  in  the  Mexican  night  a  singer 
sweeps  the   strings  of  his   guitar  until  they 
thrill  and  plead  to  the  maid  behind  the  bars 
in  the  house  opposite.    So  much  is  she  of  the 
shadow  there  that  I  only  see  her  when  a  white  bodice 
presses  forward  against  the  grating  —  or  a  little  hand 
lets  fall  a  yellow  rose  in  the  starlight. 

His  eyes  and  his  thoughts  are  for  her,  and  hers  go 
to  him  with  the  rose.  Their  own  little  romance  looms 
so  big  with  import  that  to  neither  comes  special 
thought  of  the  song  itself,  or  the  "  Dona  Perdida  "  of 
whom  the  song  was  made. 

Yet  it  is  not  so  long  ago  —  a  mere  yesterday.  Either 
of  the  lovers  opposite  might  have  gazed  up  at  her 
grandeur  as  she  looked  with  young,  eager,  seeking  eyes 


2          THE    HOUSE    OF    THE    DAWN 

from  the  balcony  of  the  viceroy's  palace  —  that  palace 
from  which  her  trail  was  planned  to  the  northland  of 
the  Indians. 

No,  it  is  not  so  long  ago.  I  am  still  here  waiting 
word  of  her,  yet  those  two  children  of  the  yellow  rose 
and  the  guitar  have  their  own  way  of  making  a  man 
feel  old ;  and  that  song  of  "  Perdida  "  — 

It  is  not  to  be  thought  that  our  Sancha  was  christened 
"  Perdida  "  —  or  the  "  Lost  One  "  —  far  from  it.  Her 
cousin,  the  Archbishop  and  Viceroy,  could  have  told 
them  how  nearly  royal  was  her  blood  and  how  weighty 
her  name.  But  he,  good  man,  had  closed  on  himself 
the  doors  of  a  monastery  in  Spain  ere  the  Brotherhood 
blotted  out  her  name  from  the  lists  of  Christian  folk 
here  in  Mexico. 

"  Perdida,"  heretic,  without  the  faith,  they  said  when 
her  name  was  publicly  burned  at  the  auto-da-fe.  Yet 
the  saints  knew*  she  had  strong  faith  —  a  faith  so  large 
that  it  bridged  ocean  and  desert.  By  faith  alone 
her  vision  of  love  grew  into  a  living  thing  so  great 
that  all  the  needs  of  smaller  souls  fell  from  her  as  a 
garment  cast  aside.  Not  once,  I  know,  did  she  ever 
look  backward  with  a  sigh  to  that  garment  of  gilded 
magnificence.  I  cross  myself  as  I  write  it,  lest  the  devil, 
who  is  always  busy,  think  that  I  approve  her  mad  sacri 
fice,  and  the  angels  know  my  will  was  good  to  put  a 
stop  to  it  in  the  very  beginning,  had  it  been  in  the  power 
of  a  lad,  half  sick  with  his  own  love,  of  which  he  was 
too  young  to  tell. 

But  the  years  change  one,  and  while  I  wait,  or  while 
I  seek,  I  shall  make  record  of  the  days  in  the  land  of 
the  barbarians,  for  not  again  in  one  life  may  a  man 


DON    JUAN    TELLS    IT  3 

come  close  to  so  great  a  love,  whether  in  outlaw  or 
true  son  of  the  church;  and  beside  me  there  is  none 
left  alive  who  knew  how  the  bond  grew  between  those 
two,  and  how  it  strengthened  with  each  hard  stroke 
of  fortune  until  the  courts  and  palaces  of  men  seemed 
but  trifling  things  in  exchange  for  sanctuary  in  the 
"  House  of  the  Dawn." 

Bernal  Diaz,  after  his  campaigns,  made  written  record 
of  the  things  he  saw  and  did  in  the  pagan  cities  and 
the  wilderness,  and  it  is  good  and  true  reading,  though 
at  times  terrible,  as  one  must  expect  a  soldier's  tale 
of  conquest  to  be.  For  myself,  I  must  set  down  plainly 
that  I  got  not  even  a  smell  of  conquest  such  as  his, 
though  I  crossed  the  water  with  all  the  faith  of  Sancho 
Panza  in  winning,  at  the  very  least,  a  governor's  staff ; 
and  like  him  had  more  routings  than  any  lad  of  adven 
ture  ever  sees  in  his  most  dismal  dreams.  Gold  there 
was,  and  silver  in  plenty  —  but  the  brown  people  took 
their  toll. 

Added  to  all  this  was  the  fact  that  I  followed  a 
mistress  instead  of  a  master  —  and  a  mistress  whose 
beauty  was  an  unbelievable  wonder  of  earth.  All  boys, 
and  even  men,  feel  like  that  concerning  the  charm 
some  one  maid  has  given  out  to  the  world,  but  the 
charm  of  our  Sancha  is  a  living  charm  today,  here  in 
this  city  of  Mexico;  and  the  singing  of  that  song  — 
"  Perdida "  —  brings  it  back  to  me  like  a  sweep  of 
music  in  a  night  of  roses. 

It  was  but  yesterday  I  heard  a  padre  chiding  a 
singer  of  the  song;  also  he  discoursed  on  the  devilish 
impiety  of  it.  I  stood  aside,  silent,  and  listened  while 
he  said  plainly  that  the  nameless  "  Dona  Perdida  "  was 


4         THE    HOUSE    OF    THE    DAWN 

bewitched  and  enchanted  by  one  of  the  workers  on 
earth  for  the  prince  of  darkness,  and  that  the  singer 
must  do  penance  by  ten  Ave  Marias  before  the  miracle 
picture  of  Our  Lady  in  the  Chapel. 

Muttering  and  admonishing  the  singer,  he  shuffled 
into  the  cool  dusk  of  the  sanctuary  and  bent  where  the 
wonderful  face  smiles  from  the  frame  like  a  living  maid 
gazing  down  from  a  golden  window  of  paradise  into  the 
world.  As  if  on  the  top  of  the  world  she  stands  there, 
with  the  drifting  clouds  of  white  back  of  her,  the  silver 
white  doves  above,  and  the  sun's  rays  touching  the 
white  drapery  over  her  head  like  a  glory  crown. 
White  —  all  white  but  the  rose-leaf  flesh,  the  wide,  gray, 
seeking  eyes,  and  the  dark  braids  of  hair  down  either 
shoulder  and  near  touching  the  fawn  on  which  her 
hand  rests. 

I  had  thoughts  of  my  own  as  to  the  horror  of  the 
padre  if  I  should  tell  him  that  the  lost  soul  of  the  for 
bidden  song  and  the  Virgin  of  the  Fawn  were  one  and 
the  same,  and  that  the  radiant  glory  crown  was  inspired 
by  a  full  white  skirt  drawn  upward  over  the  head  of 
the  maid  as  a  shield  from  the  sun  on  a  far-away  hill  of 
Andalucia.  Even  the  home  forest  of  that  fawn  I  could 
have  told,  and  solved  a  knotty  problem ;  for  the  graceful 
animal  of  soft  shy  eyes  had  caused  much  discourse 
among  the  ecclesiastics,  by  the  reason  that  no  record  of 
the  Holy  Evangelists  held  any  word  of  such  a  com 
panion  of  the  forest  for  Our  Lady  of  Light.  A  lamb 
might  have  been  understood  —  but  a  wild,  care-free 
creature  of  the  wilderness!  I  know  Padre  Felipe  gave 
advice  that  it  be  painted  over,  and  that  lilies  be  painted, 
instead.  His  reason  was  that  pagan  false  gods  of  old 


DON   JUAN    TELLS    IT 

Rome  were  such  wild  things  of  forest  or  sylvan  places ; 
among  them  a  piper  of  devilish  music,  with  the  horns 
and  haunches  of  a  goat.  I  never  dare  inquire  too 
closely  as  to  the  relationship  between  a  kid  and  a  fawn, 
or  betray  special  interest  in  the  controversy  —  content 
that  it  has  quieted  down,  and  that  the  symbol  of  the 
wilderness  is  left  beside  her  in  her  high  place  against 
the  sky. 

So  I  kept  to  myself  what  I  knew  of  the  miracle  of 
that  picture,  having  no  desire  to  follow  the  convicted 
of  sin  in  line  to  the  next  roastings  at  the  quemadora  — 
and  if  I  had  but  hinted  that  my  own  hands  had  made 
the  sandals  for  the  slender  feet  of  the  virgin  on  the  can 
vas,  well  —  at  the  very  mildest  —  I  would  have  been 
possessed  of  a  devil,  and  sheltered  the  rest  of  my  days 
in  a  monastery,  and  my  worldly  goods  divided  between 
the  King  and  the  Holy  Brotherhood. 

They  have  already  made  some  blessed  and  fanciful 
tales  about  the  picture,  intended  to  affect  anyone  prone 
to  heretical  doubts;  for  even  a  Jew  must  believe  when 
it  is  shown  that  the  artist  painted  it  in  prison  with  no 
woman  to  look  at,  and  that  Our  Lady  herself  came  to 
him  and  showed  herself,  that  his  soul  might  be  saved 
by  faith  and  the  church  be  made  a  place  of  pilgrimage 
in  her  honor,  which  it  is  today.  Sermons  have  been 
preached  on  that  picture,  and  I  have  been  sorely  puz 
zled  at  some  of  them,  since  it  would  seem  that  Our 
Lady's  discernment  was  at  fault  in  that  she  elected  to 
show  herself  only  to  a  heretic  possessed  of  the  devil, 
who  still  continued,  in  spite  of  her  graciousness,  to  be 
possessed  by  devils. 

But,  as  I  wish  to  live  in  comfort  if  I  am  to  live  at 


1 


6         THE    HOUSE    OF   THE    DAWN 

all,  I  keep  a  long  face  and  my  tongue  between  my  teeth 
when  these  mystical  tales  are  told,  and  in  time  I  gain 
almost  the  name  of  being  a  religioso  because  of  the 
many  times  I  kneel  at  that  altar,  and  dream  away  the 
hours  there. 

I  go  to  look  at  the  dear  little  bare  feet  in  the  sandals 
I  made,  and  it  gives  me  comfort  to  see  the  serene  joy 
of  life  in  her  eyes,  and  know  that  if  she  continues  to 
live  the  joy  is  still  hers  —  for  if  it  ever  left  she  would 
die,  and  that  of  course  would  be  best.  There  are 
women,  and  men  too,  who  live  on  with  a  life  all  patches 
and  scraps  of  what  they  meant  it  to  be,  but  I  know  our 
Sancha,  whose  name  is  forbidden,  would  go  into  death 
as  to  a  royal  audience,  gracious  and  unbroken. 


CHAPTER  II 
THE  BETROTHAL 

A  LITTLE  queen,  Sancha  seemed  to  me,  that 
far-away  day  of  her  betrothal !  She  was  twelve, 
and  Marco  nineteen,  and  he  was  to  sail  in  a 
week  with  his  uncle,  Rodrigo  de  Ordono,  to 
one  of  the  provinces  of  Mexico.  I  was  fourteen  and 
was  jealous  of  him  because  he  was  going  out  into  a 
world  of  mysteries,  and  it  was  easy  to  see  from  the 
petting  of  the  women  that  life  was  arranged  for  him 
in  pleasant  places !  His  suit  of  velvet  was  darkest  blue, 
with  silver  buckles  on  shoes,  and  silver  buttons  wher 
ever  there  was  space  for  them,  and  the  emerald  ring 
of  his  father  on  his  hand,  while  cousin  Sancha  was 
laced  into  a  brocade  of  rose,  with  the  wedding  veil  of 
our  grandmother,  the  Marquesa  de  Llorente,  falling  to 
her  little  slippers,  even  though  caught  in  many  loops 
through  the  ancient  girdle  of  golden  wires  and  jeweled 
butterflies.  I  always  have  had  suspicions  that  the  girdle 
was  come  by  through  that  infidel  Moresco  grandee, 
who,  it  is  said,  came  into  the  family  some  generations 
ago.  However,  with  conveniences  to  Christian  souls  — 
and  it  may  be  by  some  expense  to  treasure  chests  —  no 
mention  above  a  whisper  had  been  made  of  him  for  a 
lifetime  or  two.  If  a  family  urges  itself  not  into  forget- 
fulness  of  heretic  blood,  the  Holy  Brotherhood  have  a 

7 


8          THE    HOUSE    OF    THE    DAWN 

way  of  smelling  the  trail  to  it,  if  there  is  a  maravedi  to 
confiscate  or  a  monastery  in  need  of  more  lands. 

Pearls  were  also  about  her  neck  —  the  first  time 
Sancha  had  been  given  the  joy  of  wearing  jewels. 
They  at  least  did  not  blazon  their  early  pagan  pos 
sessors,  but  lay  lustrous  as  moonlight  on  the  flushed 
marble  of  her  shoulders. 

So  gorgeous  a  butterfly  she  was,  and  she  knew  it  -  - 
the  child  coquette  —  glancing  sideways  at  Marco,  and 
giving  look  for  look  at  the  older  men  who  praised  her ; 
kissing  Don  Rodrigo,  her  guardian,  but  with  her  eyes 
on  Miguel  Alrada,  the  page  of  Sefior  Cura.  You  never 
would  have  thought  she  had  lived  always  among  the 
blessed  nuns  of  St.  Dominic,  and  that  when  the  days  of 
the  betrothal  fiesta  were  over  she  would  go  again  up 
into  the  gray  walls  on  the  gray  hills  for  five  years,  until 
Marco  de  Ordono,  with  happiness  well  arranged  for 
him,  came  back  from  Mexico  to  claim  her. 

It  is  not  easy  for  a  shy  lad  of  fourteen  to  love  a  tall 
gallant  of  nineteen  summers  when  there  is  a  maid 
between  them,  not  even  though  he  be,  in  a  way,  a  cousin ; 
but  this  lack  of  love  was  aggravated  that  day  until  in 
my  jealousy,  and  with  my  murderous  thoughts  of  what 
I  should  do  to  him  when  I  had  doubled  my  height,  I 
was  obliged  to  make  confession  to  Padre  Juan  of  my 
homicidal  intentions. 

It  was  not  that  he  had  married  her  —  to  me  all  that 
betrothal  formality  in  the  presence  of  the  family  was 
as  a  bona  fide  wedding  fiesta  —  but  I  was  furious  be 
cause  he  could  have  eyes  and  ears  for  other  maids  there. 
I  —  I  could  only  sit  like  an  owl  in  my  holiday  finery,  and 
blink  and  wonder  at  the  beauty  of  her,  while  he  not 


THE    BETROTHAL  9 

only  had  smiles  and  honey  words  for  others  but  danced 
with  them  after  the  supper! 

It  never  entered  my  loyal  mind  to  question  why  she 
also  was  gay  as  a  bird  of  springtime,  and  in  no  way 
chary  of  her  hands,  or  her  glances,  or  her  soft  laughter, 
as  she  chose  to  dance  with  every  eager  youth.  I  was 
not  jealous  of  them.  I  have  grown  to  know  I  was  jeal 
ous  for  her  —  in  truth  I  was  a  little  fanatic  who  resented 
that  there  should  be  other  idols  in  the  world  than 
my  own. 

Even  now,  when  I  think  over  those  child  hours,  I 
cannot  see  why,  in  her  brocade,  and  the  pearls,  and  the 
wonderful  lace,  she  was  not  more  inspiring  to  an  artist 
than  on  the  hill  with  bare  feet  in  sandals,  and  her  white 
skirt  over  her  head;  but  poets  and  artists  are  curious. 
I,  perhaps,  keep  the  only  picture  of  her  in  the  betrothal 
dress,  and  that  is  in  my  mind,  stamped  there  by  the 
information  that  in  future  she  was  to  belong  to  Marco 
de  Ordofio. 

It  is  a  mistake  to  think  children  do  not  suffer  deeply ; 
within  their  hearts  are  the  seeds  of  all  tragedies.  A 
strange  painter  was  there  from  Valencia,  and  the 
portrait  he  had  painted  of  Marco  was  framed  and  in 
the  sala,  for  all  to  see.  Don  Rodrigo,  who  had  arranged 
the  betrothal,  as  I  thought  later,  to  get  the  Llorente  y 
Rivera  treasures  in  his  own  family  chests  lest  they  come 
to  me,  well,  Don  Rodrigo  was  all  smiling,  and  every 
body's  friend  that  day.  He  had  great  good  nature  in 
the  arrangement  of  the  money  of  other  people  —  most 
of  his  own  had  been  lost  in  various  venturings.  So  he 
had  made  decision  that  before  they  set  sail  for  Mexico 
he  would  have  the  portrait  made  to  comfort  admiring 


vr/ 


10       THE    HOUSE    OF    THE    DAWN 

aunts  and  a  grandmother  who  mourned  the  departure 
of  Marco's  handsome  self. 

And  it  was  a  picture!  All  of  velvet  suit  and  satin 
linings,  and  the  sword  of  his  father,  the  general,  in  his 
ringed  hand.  People  came  in  and  looked  at  it,  and 
praised.  Marco  took  all  the  prettiest  girls  and  asked 
each  one  to  gaze  on  it  sometimes  and  think  of  him 
when  he  was  risking  his  life  among  the  red  barbarians. 
I  know,  for  I  heard  three  of  them  offer  to  pray  for 
him.  I  think  I  waited  near  it  to  hear  if  cousin  Sancha 
would  also  offer  to  pray  for  him,  but  Sancha  was  occu 
pied  with  that  lank  Miguel,  and  coquetted  till  I  was 
sorely  tempted  to  remind  her  that  Sister  Teresa  would 
give  her  short  space  for  the  wearing  of  brocades,  and 
back  in  the  convent  she  would  be  but  a  little  student 
again,  of  as  little  importance  as  myself. 

It  was  there,  while  looking  at  the  picture,  that  I 
noticed  Tristan  Rueda,  the  foster  brother  of  Marco. 
I  had  never  known  him  to  come  much  where  the  gay 
crowds  were,  and  I  had  heard  he  was  a  poor  relation, 
but  whose  relation  I  did  not  know.  He  did  not  look 
poor,  and  was  taller  than  Marco.  I  knew  they  had  the 
same  nurse,  Luiza,  who  once  lived  in  the  mountains, 
and  had  married  a  soldier,  Mateo  Gomez,  and  gone  with 
him  to  Mexico;  and  it  was  thought  a  convenient  thing 
that  Don  Rodrigo  and  Marco  would  go  where  a  good 
housewife  would  be,  as  it  were,  waiting  for  them,  and 
glad  to  be  once  more  under  the  old  family  rule. 

All  those  matters  were  talked  over  in  the  preparation 
for  their  journey,  and  I  was  wild  with  impatience  at  my 
lack  of  years,  so  eager  was  I  to  take  ship  and  cross  seas, 
and  conquer  worlds! 


THE   BETROTHAL  n 

I  did  not  know  that  height  or  years  could  not  always 
win  the  thing  desired.  While  I  sat,  glowering  at  the 
fine  picture  and  eating  my  heart  out  with  a  boy's  long 
ings,  Rodrigo  stopped  to  talk  to  Tristan  where  he  stood 
looking  at  the  painting  in  the  gorgeous  gilded  frame. 

"  You  write  a  pretty  letter,  Tristan,"  he  said,  "  and  I 
have  thought  of  it  much  while  you  were  at  the  school, 
but  it  suits  not  my  arrangements  that  you  should  go 
with  us  now.  For  one  more  year  I  need  you  here ;  then 
come  and  welcome.  In  a  year  my  cousin  Carlos  will  be 
back  from  Austria.  In  his  hands  all  the  properties  will 
have  good  care.  But  until  then  I  must  leave  some  one 
in  trust,  and  who  knows  so  well  as  you  all  the  lands,  and 
the  herds,  and  the  accounts?  For  five  years  you  have 
saved  me  every  coin  that  was  saved  in  the  timber  or 
the  herds  —  Marco  has  no  head  that  way !  " 

"  True,  Marco  has  not,"  agreed  Tristan.  He  looked 
sulky,  and  not  a  traveling  companion  to  wish  for. 

"  No  —  and  softly,  Tristan,  lad  —  I  fancy  there  are 
even  moments  when  he  is  more  than  a  little  jealous  that 
you  are  as  my  right  hand.  So,  for  a  year,  it  seems  to 
me  as  well  that  you  have  a  different  way  of  life.  One 
year  will  do  much  with  a  spoiled  boy;  he  will  be  so 
sick  for  home  that  he  will  welcome  you  with  a  warm 
heart,  and  it  will  be  better  for  both  of  you  to  wait  until 
that  time." 

"  Jealous  —  of  me  —  when  he  has  all  this !  "  Tristan 
looked  ugly  as  he  said  it,  but  in  a  moment  bowed  before 
Don  Rodrigo  as  if  in  apologizing  for  a  rebellious 
thought. 

"  I  do  not  forget,  senor,  that  to  you  and  to  the  General 
de  Ordono  I  owe  a  debt  of  which  we  never  speak.  I 


12       THE    HOUSE    OF    THE    DAWN 

cannot  pay  it  to  the  general  except  it  be  by  devotion 
to  Marco,  his  son.  I  made  my  vow  when  I  was  very 
little,  senor,  but  each  year  I  repeat  it :  so  long  as  I  live 
I  owe  my  life  to  your  house ;  and  somewhere,  somewhere 
in  the  world,  another  man,  perhaps,  still  lives  under  the 
shelter  of  a  monk's  robe,  and  it  may  be  that  for  his  life, 
also,  I  owe  your  house  allegiance.  I  will  stay,  senor, 
until  Don  Pedro  comes  back  from  Austria,  though  my 
heart  will  go  ahead  of  your  ship  into  New  Spain." 

Don  Rodrigo  stared  at  him,  and  then  sat  down.  His 
face  had  gone  pale  and  red  again  as  he  looked  at  Tristan 
Rueda,  who  spoke  so  quietly. 

"  Holy  saints !  "  he  whispered.  "  Then  you  do  remem 
ber?  " 

Tristan  said  nothing,  and  Don  Rodrigo  wiped  his  face, 
and  looked  as  sick  as  a  fat  man  sitting  upright  could 
look,  and  I  made  myself  small  in  the  corner  behind  a 
black  carved  chair  taller  than  myself.  I  did  not  under 
stand  at  all,  but  Don  Rodrigo  was  the  good-natured, 
gambling  soldier,  yet  strong  in  all  family  councils,  and 
a  thing  to  frighten  him  was  surely  a  thing  of  much 
import.  I  had  no  desire  to  listen,  yet  dared  not  move 
for  fear  of  drawing  their  attention. 

"  You  are  a  man,"  said  Don  Rodrigo  after  a  silence  in 
which  I  wondered  my  heart  thumps  did  not  give  warn 
ing  that  I  was  so  few  paces  from  them.  "  Years  do  not 
always  make  the  man,  but  you  have  held  the  secret  of 
men  since  you  were  the  height  of  my  knee,  and  asked 
never  a  question!  Santa  Maria,  lad,  how  could  you 
remember?  " 

"  I  remember  because  I  was  carried  all  a  long  night 
ride  from  the  mountains  under  a  man's  cloak;  the  man 


THE    BETROTHAL  13 

kissed  me,  and  we  wept  together.  I  did  not  know  why. 
It  was  to  this  room  he  brought  me,  and  from  the  window 
I  saw  the  river  and  the  ships ;  that  was  the  first  time  I 
had  looked  on  ships,  and  I  could  not  forget  that.  Gen 
eral  de  Ordono  put  his  hands  on  my  head,  and  said  I 
was  not  to  be  afraid;  also  that  Marco  would  be  as  my 
brother.  I  do  not  recall  the  days  after  that  for  a  long 
time  —  only  that  one  day  and  that  ride  in  the  dark." 

"  Yet  you  speak  of  —  another  life  —  another,"  Don 
Rodrigo  almost  said  the  words  in  a  whisper,  and  caught 
the  sleeve  of  Tristan,  looking  up  into  his  face,  for  the 
lad  was  still  standing  as  at  first,  looking  at  the  gorgeous 
picture  of  Marco. 

"  Yes,  sefior,  but  that  was  afterwards,  long  after 
wards.  General  de  Ordono  was  dying,  and  priests  came. 
One  who  came  was  the  man  of  that  night  ride.  After 
the  funeral  there  were  ships  sailing  to  Mexico,  and  you 
took  Marco  and  other  children  and  me  down  to  the 
shore  to  see  the  people.  Among  them  was  my  man  of 
the  ride.  He  went  away  in  the  boat,  and  until  now  I 
have  been  waiting  to  follow  to  Mexico.  I  do  not  ask 
his  name.  I  heard  you  call  him  Fernandito,  and  you 
said  the  robe  of  a  monk  was  a  better  garment  for  him 
than  a  sanbenito.  I  do  not  know  what  he  had  done  to 
earn  the  sanbenito." 

"  He  did  no  wrong  to  any  one,  unless  it  be  the  holy 
saints,  and  they  are  good  to  forgive,"  said  Don  Rodrigo, 
crossing  himself,  and  I  was  well  frightened  then,  for 
while  the  monk's  robe  is  for  the  service  of  the  saints, 
the  sanbenito  is  the  yellow,  glaring,  hideous  thing  worn 
by  heretics  on  the  way  to  the  auto-da-fe  when  there  is  a 
burning  of  sinners  for  the  purifying  of  the  world. 


i4       THE    HOUSE    OF    THE    DAWN 

That  was  a  big  day  in  my  boyhood.  I  had  wished  for 
height  and  years  because  I  was  jealous  of  Marco  de 
Ordono,  but  hidden  there  in  the  corner,  I  was  willing 
to  give  up  even  the  inches  I  had,  so  eager  was  I  to  shrink 
and  be  safe  from  discovery,  for  as  in  a  bad  dream  I  was 
afraid  of  the  things  I  was  hearing,  yet  scarcely  knew 
why. 

"  You  are  a  man,  comrade,"  said  Don  Rodrigo,  "  but, 
Santa  Maria,  you  have  given  me  a  fright!  To  think 
that  the  head  of  a  child  could  hold  all  that  danger  for 
years,  and  never  speak !  " 

Then  the  fine  painter  of  the  picture  came  in,  and  other 
friends,  and  Padre  Juan,  and  in  the  crowd  I  could  slip 
from  my  corner  and  stand  among  them  unnoticed,  and 
hear  the  words  of  praise,  until  Padre  Juan  put  his  hand 
on  the  shoulder  of  Tristan  Rueda,  and  said  before  them 
all: 

"  Here,  also,  we  may  have  a  Velasquez  or  a  Murillo 
some  fine  day!  For  his  own  joy  he  painted  on  our 
chapel  of  Santa  Cecelia  for  a  year,  and  did  more  of  the 
angels  in  the  frieze  than  the  foreigner  who  got  the 
pay  for  it." 

This  caused  much  surprise  to  me,  for  I  had  only  heard 
of  Tristan  Rueda  as  the  assistant  of  Don  Rodrigo,  and 
he  looked  red  and  sulky,  with  all  eyes  turned  to  him. 

"  So,"  said  the  painter  in  a  sweet  and  honeyed  way, 
as  if  to  a  child,  "  so  you  have  ambitions?  That  is  to  be 
commended;  but  the  labor  is  great,  and  only  the  few 
succeed." 

"  My  ambitions,  serior,  will  seem  to  you  but  slender. 
I  have  only  made  drawings  to  pass  time  while  herding 
sheep,"  said  Tristan,  and  his  shrug  and  glance  at  the 


THE    BETROTHAL 


canvas  in  the  gold  frame  were  very  nearly  insulting. 
He  would  not  be  patronized  by  any  one,  and  it  was  easy 
to  see  he  did  not  relish  the  kind  padre's  good  intent. 

"  Ah,  only  pastime  for  a  shepherd !  "  and  the  painter 
stroked  his  beard,  and  measured  the  lad  with  his  eyes. 
"  Then  as  a  shepherd,  will  you  give  us  your  free  opinion 
of  this  portrait  of  Senor  Don  Marco  de  Ordono?  " 

"  Since  you  request  it,  senor,  I  would  say  that  Marco 
is  handsome  enough  without  all  that  gold;  you  have 
made  him  grander  than  the  pope.  Also,  to  my  eyes,  the 
sword  of  his  father  has  no  fit  place  in  the  lily  hand  you 
have  given  to  Marco.  It  is  not  the  great  general's  son 
you  have  painted,  senor,  but  a  pretty  page;  only  petti 
coats  are  needed  to  make  him  a  fine  lady  in  waiting." 

And  with  a  really  beautiful  bow  to  the  painter,  and 
the  padre,  and  Don  Rodrigo,  he  walked  out  and  left 
them  staring,  and  I  think  I  was  the  only  one  of  them 
all  to  see  that  Marco  himself  was  at  that  moment  about 
to  enter  from  the  patio  with  another  maid  to  view  the 
picture.  They  had  halted,  heard  every  word,  and  the 
girl,  with  her  head  held  high  in  anger,  drew  Marco  away 
along  the  corridor  —  and  this  time  the  girl  was  cousin 
Sancha  herself!  He  seemed  to  be  trying  as  best  he 
might  to  loosen  her  fingers  from  about  his  arm,  but  gave 
it  up;  that  child  was  strong  as  a  young  tigress,  and 
she  was  tense  with  the  dread  of  duels  and  death,  and  all 
the  other  tragic  dreams  so  much  a  part  of  a  girl's 
romance. 

I  did  not  wait  to  hear  how  Padre  Juan  and  Don  Rod 
rigo  smoothed  the  ruffled  humor  of  the  painter.  No 
doubt  they  told  him  that  the  lad  had  in  truth  lived  his 
summers  with  the  herdsmen  and  the  timber  cutters,  and 


16       THE    HOUSE    OF    THE    DAWN 

had  gained  a  certain  rustic  disdain  of  the  luxurious.  But 
however  they  patched  it  up,  I  ran  after  cousin  Sancha 
and  found  her  half  in  tears  with  rage. 

"Who  is  he  —  this  Tristan  Rueda?  "  she  demanded. 
"  No,  I  have  never  seen  him.  How  should  I  see  sheep 
men  in  the  convent?  No,  I  saw  only  the  back  of  his 
head,  but  that  was  enough!  Rueda!  /  shall  call  him 
'  El  Negrido,'  because  he  has  black  hair  curled  at  the 
ends  like  a  Moor !  I  know  he  is  hideous !  I  do  not  see 
how  it  is,  Marco,  that  you  ever  were  friends  with  him  — 
he  is  not  worthy  since  he  mocks  at  your  beautiful  pic 
ture  —  him  —  El  Negrido!  " 

In  her  fine  rage  and  her  attack  on  Tristan,  Marco  felt 
himself  much  comforted,  and  when  I  left  them  he  was 
giving  fond  promise  to  spare  Tristan's  life,  but  also 
promised  to  ignore  him  from  that  time  forth;  which,  by 
the  way,  he  could  not  so  easily  do,  as  that  "  lady  in  wait 
ing  "  got  abroad  and  caused  some  laughter,  and  the 
following  day  a  threat  was  made  by  Marco  to  chastise 
Tristan,  whereupon  Tristan  hurt  his  pride  some  more, 
also  his  body,  and  made  Marco  go  and  confess  to  Don 
Rodrigo  why  it  was  done. 

I  thought  of  course  Tristan  would  go  back  to  the 
hills  at  once,  that  day  of  the  betrothal,  or  to  the  house 
of  Padre  Juan;  but  long  after  the  moon  was  up,  and 
the  music  of  the  dancing  had  caused  me  to  fall  asleep 
on  a  seat  outside  the  window  of  the  sala,  I  was  lifted 
in  strong  arms  and  carried  to  the  room  across  the  patio 
where  the  boy  guests  were  to  sleep;  and  as  my 
fine  holiday  shoes  were  slipped  off,  and  my  clothes 
were  unfastened  with  care,  my  curiosity  conquered  my 
sleepy  head  for  a  little,  and  I  was  made  sorry  to  see  it 


m 


THE    BETROTHAL  17 

was  Tristan  Rueda  who  cared  for  me  —  for  if  cousin 
Sancha  could  find  no  good  in  him,  how  could  I,  her 
devoted  slave,  accept  his  favors?  I  comforted  myself 
with  the  thought  that  she  had  not  actually  bound 
me  with  a  promise  to  refuse  his  friendship,  well  though 
I  knew  she  would  have  done  so  had  she  thought  of  it ! 

"  Oh,  Don  Tristan !  I  thought  you  had  gone  back  to 
your  sheep,  or  to  pray  to  your  angels  in  the  chapel,"  I 
whispered,  "  for  she  is  very,  very  angry,  and  she  will 
not  let  cousin  Marco  be  friends  with  you,  ever." 

"  That  may  be,"  he  said  as  he  slipped  off  the  sleeves 
of  my  jacket. 

"  She  does  not  know  you,  of  course,  or  she  would  not 
call  you  El  Negrido  instead  of  Rueda,"  I  continued. 
"  It  is  because  your  hair  is  so  black.  She  only  saw 
your  head,  and  heard  your  voice ;  and  you  —  you  did 
not  get  to  see  her  at  all,  and  she  is  so  fine !  " 

"  So  very  fine,"  he  agreed.  So  he  must  have  seen  her 
while  I  slept.  "  But  you  also  have  black  hair,  little  com 
rade,  yet  she  is  kind  to  you." 

"  You  do  not  know  how  terrible  Sancha  can  be  when 
she  is  in  a  rage,"  I  persisted.  "  I  have  seen  her  break 
things  when  she  is  in  anger.  It  is  better,  I  think,  if  you 
make  more  angels,  and  —  pray  to  them.  She  hates  you 
very,  very  much." 

"  I  know,"  he  whispered,  and  if  he  said  anything  more, 
I  did  not  hear  it.  He  laid  me  on  the  pillow,  covered  me 
over,  and  blew  out  the  candle,  and  I  knew  nothing  more 
until  the  other  boys  were  throwing  their  shoes  at  me 
in  the  morning,  and  daring  me  to  come  with  them  and 
run  naked  down  to  the  river  for  a  swim  before  anyone 
but  Santiago,  the  old  watchman,  was  awake. 


i8       THE    HOUSE    OF    THE    DAWN 

And  that  was  the  end  of  the  betrothal  day  of  cousin 
Sancha.  Looking  backward,  it  seems  that  while  it  was 
a  great  and  full  day  to  me,  of  which  I  was  conscious,  it 
was  a  day  of  fate  for  others  more  important  than  I,  and 
their  after  years  were  framed  by  it. 


in"  !••.' 

flii 

Tar 


CHAPTER   III 
THE  THINGS  FORBIDDEN 

IT  IS  strange  how  quickly  a  slip  of  a  girl  makes  a 
boy  feel  that  she  is  a  woman,  while  the  boy  is  still 
a  boy. 

So  quickly  did  cousin  Sancha  shoot  up  tall  and 
slender,  like  a  young  palm  by  a  living  spring,  that  I 
flushed  hot  and  cold  as  I  kissed  her  six  months  later, 
and  she  patted  my  cheek  and  called  me  "  Juanito  Chi- 
quito,"  and  thanked  me  for  a  pet  fawn  I  had  sent,  and 
asked  me  if  I  wanted  to  see  the  Indian  dolls  sent  her 
by  Marco  from  Mexico ! 

I  cared  as  little  as  most  boys  for  dolls,  but  I  lied 
graciously,  and  with  Padre  Juan  I  spent  a  wonder  day 
at  the  convent  and  looked  at  dolls,  and  spelled  out  the 
letters  sent  with  them,  and  was  too  surprised  to  make 
comment  when  I  saw  the  letters  were  not  from,  but 
about,  Marco.  He  was  at  the  De  Ordofio  mines  in  the 
interior,  not  convenient  to  the  seacoast,  or  in  the  way 
of  letters;  thus  a  monk  who  was  a  friend  of  Don  Rod- 
rigo  wrote  for  them  all  family  letters,  and  they  were 
sent  to  the  good  abbess,  Mother  Maria  Cecilia,  so  that, 
as  far  as  I  could  see,  the  letters  were  for  the  relations, 
and  Sancha  was  regarded  as  a  babe  for  whom  only  dolls 
were  fitting  pastime. 

But  the  pages  glowed  with  the  beauty  and  the  fine 

19 


20       THE    HOUSE    OF    THE    DAWN 

success  of  Marco  as  communicated  by  the  writer,  Fray 
Fernando  Alcatraz.  The  Ordono  mines  at  San  Luis 
Potosi  were  in  a  fair  way  to  make  all  their  fortunes ;  the 
only  difficulty  was  to  secure  a  steady  supply  of  native 
slaves  for  the  work;  there  had  been  some  rebellious  in 
various  ways,  but  in  the  end  all  would  come  right; 
Marco  was  attached  to  Fray  Payo,  the  venerable  Arch 
bishop  and  Viceroy,  and  was  in  a  fair  way  to  climb  high 
in  the  viceregal  court ;  and  so  on,  and  so  on. 

All  the  letters  were  of  the  same  things,  and  each  car 
ried  the  love  and  the  blessings  of  Don  Rodrigo  and 
Marco  and  the  priest  who  wrote  it  —  and  a  doll  or  a 
string  of  beads. 

"  From  Fray  Payo  and  Don  Rodrigo  and  Marco  and 
the  learned  priest,  I  get  dolls  and  strings  of  beads,"  said 
Sancha  with  disdain,  "  beads  of  turquoise,  and  of  wood, 
of  berries,  and  stone,  and  shell.  I  shall  weave  them  all 
into  a  robe  for  the  wedding  dress,  there  will  soon  be 
enough  to  cover  me !  " 

We  laughed  over  how  she  would  look  in  the  wedding 
dress  of  beads,  and  then  we  fell  to  choosing  which  of 
the  dresses  of  the  Indian  dolls  would  be  most  becoming. 
They  were  of  even  greater  variety  of  material  than  the 
beads,  and  ranged  from  husks  of  maize  to  carvings  of 
stone.  I  know  now  that  those  things  which  the  white 
people  named  dolls  were  really  effigies  and  figurines  of 
their  false  gods  and  goddesses,  and  I  wonder  much  that 
they  escaped  the  sharp  eyes  of  the  officers  of  the  Inquisi 
tion. 

One  doll  wore  woven  sandals  of  grasses,  and  on  these 
Sancha  set  her  heart  —  she  so  dearly  loved  to  run  shoe 
less,  and  sandals  like  these  would  be  so  nearly  nothing 


THE    THINGS    FORBIDDEN          21 

on  her  feet.  I  had  watched  the  village  girls  braid  their 
hats  from  the  straw  of  the  wild  oats  until  I  had  the  trick 
of  it,  and  with  the  footgear  of  the  little  Indian  field  god 
for  a  pattern,  I  took  strips  of  palm  and  braided  them 
and  formed  the  fabric  to  her  foot,  and  added  to  the 
band  across  the  ankle  the  silver  buckles  from  my  own 
shoes,  so  that  I  had  the  joy  of  seeing  her  dance  in  them 
with  delight  and  spread  her  petticoats  in  a  profound 
mocking  bow  to  me.  And  at  that  very  moment  the 
Abbess  and  Padre  Juan  came  into  the  garden,  and  tried 
to  look  severe,  and  ended  by  laughing.  Then  they  took 
us  in  to  the  refectory,  where  we  had  bread  and  honey 
and  milk  before  we  went  back  to  the  town  below. 

Sancha,  with  Sister  Teresa,  walked  with  us  along  the 
path,  and  the  fawn  was  led  by  Sancha,  for  already  it  had 
learned  the  hand  from  which  its  food  came.  I  looked 
back  at  them  as  they  stood  at  the  edge  of  the  olive  wood, 
and  noted  that  Sancha  was  taller  than  little  Sister  Teresa, 
and  that  over  her  head,  in  a  way  she  had,  she  cast  the 
soft  white  skirt  from  the  back  as  a  shield  against  the 
sun.  The  straight  long  folds  of  it  either  side  her  face, 
and  down  to  her  feet,  added  to  her  height.  It  was  not 
as  if  a  long  white  scarf  had  been  flung  over  her  head, 
but  rather  as  if  close  folded  wings  of  white  were  either 
side  the  slender  figure,  meeting  overhead.  It  made  her 
look  very  curious  with  the  flare  of  the  sun  back  of  her. 
I  thought  of  an  angel  I  had  once  seen  in  a  picture  with 
Joseph  the  carpenter.  Yet  Sancha  herself  was  not  like 
an  angel  at  all/ 

As  we  went  down  the  steep  way  of  the  hill,  Padre 
Juan  remarked  that  he  must  ask  Tristan  Rueda  to  send 
some  competent  man  to  repair  the  chapel  of  the  convent 


THE    HOUSE    OF    THE    DAWN 


where  a  storm  had  done  damage ;  there  were  some  capa 
ble  lay  brothers  at  the  monastery  who  could  do  the  work 
and  repair  the  frescoes,  but  Tristan  always  knew  the 
one  who  would  be  best,  and  it  might  be  that  he  would 
himself  give  an  eye  to  it,  despite  the  fact  that  his  days 
were  very  full  with  preparations  for  the  voyage  through 
the  sea  of  the  north  to  the  New  World. 

Don  Carlos  had  made  the  journey  back  from  Austria 
sooner  than  hoped  for.  Within  a  week  the  San  Clemente 
would  spread  her  wings  for  the  western  shores  and,  if 
the  saints  willed,  Tristan  would  be  aboard  of  her,  free 
at  last  to  live  his  own  life.  Through  all  his  boyhood,  he 
had  seemed,  in  some  strange  way,  a  willing,  yet  dominat 
ing  vassal  of  De  Ordoiio's. 

Padre  Juan  grumbled  about  this  vassalage  more  than 
a  little  that  day,  for  he  had  a  great  belief  that  Tristan 
came  perilously  near  to  being  a  genius  —  a  lad  who 
could  manage  herds,  and  cure  the  murrain  in  sheep  with 
the  skill  of  the  devil-possessed  Moors,  and  who  could 
copy  in  fairest  beauty  the  ancient  writings  of  the 
Fathers.  An  entire  volume  had  he  done  for  Padre  Juan 
on  the  life  and  works  of  the  well  beloved  San  Juan  Bau- 
tista,  his  patron  saint,  and  each  page  had  its  own  illum 
inated  letters  of  blue  and  of  gold,  as  was  custom  with  all 
holy  books  of  an  older  day  —  I  should  see  it !  Not  an 
other  like  it  anywhere !  Padre  Juan  thought  he  painted 
no  more  saints  or  angels;  Tristan  had  never  talked  of 
such  work  since  a  day  when  the  Bishop  had  warned  him 
it  would  mean  much  gold  and  a  lifetime.  Also  there 
had  been  some  ill  feeling  among  the  De  Ordono  cousins 
against  him  because  of  that  ugly  estimate  of  the  portrait 
of  Marco  for  which  much  good  money  had  been  paid. 


THE    THINGS    FORBIDDEN         23 

Tristan  had  so  much  of  almost  heretical  independence 
about  so  many  of  the  things  of  life  that  Padre  Juan 
could  never  understand  why  he  made  himself  do  the 
will  of  the  De  Ordono  family,  even  to  smothering  his 
own  talents  that  their  sheep  be  rightly  tended,  and  their 
olive  and  orange  orchards  rightly  cared  for. 

So  the  padre  grumbled  and  discoursed  over  his  favor 
ite  pupil  all  down  the  road  to  the  town,  and  thus  I 
learned  that  Tristan  Rueda  did  not  tell  all  of  his  life 
and  thoughts  at  confession,  which  unsafe  habit  helps  to 
make  a  path  for  the  devil  to  walk  over  and  whisper 
heretical  things,  especially  in  the  ears  of  a  genius.  Did 
not  that  word  mean  to  be  possessed  by  genii?  And 
were  there  not  malicious  spirits  together  with  saintly 
ones  in  that  list?  If  not,  why  did  the  church  and  the 
priests  have  to  work  so  endlessly  to  exorcise  them? 

I  had  these  thoughts,  but  I  dared  not  offend  Padre 
Juan  by  speech  of  them.  Orphan  as  I  was,  with  only 
Sancha,  Marquesa  de  Llorente  y  Rivera  as  a  near  rela 
tive,  it  was  kind  Padre  Juan  who  made  the  world  seem 
like  a  home  place  to  me,  just  as  the  good  abbess  of  the 
convent  was  mother  to  Sancha.  Two  nestless  birds 
were  we,  despite  the  countless  branches  of  the  family 
tree  on  which  we  might  roost  and  welcome. 

For  myself,  I  confess  that  the  only  branch  holding 
dreams  of  mine  was  that  one  most  powerful,  across  the 
seas  in  New  Spain.  To  have  a  great-uncle  who  was 
both  archbishop  and  viceroy  of  Mexico  made  me  count 
the  days  until  I,  too,  might  fare  forth  to  adventure,  and 
I  was  ever  measuring  my  height,  and  walking  with  head 
high  held,  to  make  myself  grow  tall  more  quickly. 

Also,  I  was  like  the  shadow  of  Tristan  Rueda  from 


24       THE    HOUSE    OF   THE    DAWN 

the  time  I  learned  he  was  to  sail  in  the  San  Clemenle. 
I  had  a  holiday  of  two  weeks  from  school,  and  all  of  it 
was  spent  to  fetch  or  carry  for  him,  or  seek  out  the 
things  he  needed  for  the  far  journey.  He  was  always 
gentle  with  me;  took  me  into  shops  and  among  boat 
men  ;  bought  himself  a  strong  chest  from  a  home-coming 
merchant,  and  together  we  packed  it  in  joy.  At  my  wish, 
he  wrote  a  letter  for  me  to  Fray  Payo  de  Rivera,  the 
Viceroy,  asking  that  some  place  be  made  for  me,  if  it 
were  but  to  lace  his  shoes  —  a  boy  would  need  no  great 
height  for  that !  I  also  asked  his  gracious  notice  for  my 
friend,  Tristan,  and  signed  the  letter  with  the  name  of 
my  mother,  who  had  been  with  the  angels  before  I 
could  even  recall  her,  and  also  my  own  name  in  full, 
Juan  Estevan  Maria  Llorente  y  Rivera,  that  he  might 
not  fail  to  see  I  was  of  his  own  family.  I  think  now 
that  my  determination  to  go  was  made  when  I  read 
those  letters  with  report  of  the  high  estate  of  Marco  de 
Ordoiio  under  the  patronage  of  a  viceroy  of  our  family. 
Between  jealousy  of  Marco  and  emulation  of  Tristan, 
I  was  well  nigh  sleepless  during  those  last  days  before 
the  sailing.  We  slept  together  in  the  De  Ordono  home, 
for  Tristan  was  commissioned  to  take  charge  of  much 
wealth  in  goods  for  Don  Rodrigo.  There  were  bales  of 
fine  cloths,  casks  of  Greek  and  Spanish  wine,  priests' 
vestments  with  wonderful  embroideries  done  by  the 
blessed  nuns  in  the  convent,  and  silks  of  richness, 
worked  over  and  bordered  with  threads  of  gold.  Also 
there  were  statues  of  four  saints  for  the  church  of  San 
Carlos,  carved  of  wood,  with  eyes  of  glass,  and  a  won 
derful  enamel  of  wax,  painted  to  the  life  as  to  face  and 
hands.  A  bit  of  the  gold  on  the  carven  lace  draperies 


THE   THINGS   FORBIDDEN          25 

had  been  rubbed  off  by  some  accident,  and  at  the  last 
Tristan  spent  precious  time  in  regilding  them,  that  no 
little  curve  or  edge  should  be  less  than  perfect. 

This  pleased  Padre  Juan  very  much.  I  heard  his 
commendation  at  the  same  time  that  he  was  giving 
priestly  warning  concerning  all  books  to  be  taken,  for 
strict  though  the  Holy  Brotherhood  might  be  in  loyal 
Spain,  it  was  but  mild  ruling  to  that  of  Mexico,  where, 
perhaps  because  of  the  native  converts,  religion  must 
not  even  be  discussed,  and  those  who  went  to  the  New 
World  for  greater  freedom  found  themselves  there 
under  the  iron  heel  of  the  Inquisition. 

"  Yet  I  have  heard  there  are  lands  of  the  north  coast 
where  the  Dutch  and  English  and  some  French  live  who 
have  cast  free  from  Rome,"  said  Tristan. 

"  Keep  you  far  from  such  shores,  lest  the  seas  rise 
up  to  engulf  the  lands!  Whence  comes  your  knowl 
edge?" 

"  I  hear  the  sailors  talk,  and  the  merchants ;  there  is 
always  talk  of  the  new  lands.  We  all  listen." 

"  Then  take  not  Juan  with  you  to  the  warehouses,  no 
good  can  be  learned  from  the  discourse  of  heretical 
travelers." 

"Yet,"  ventured  Tristan,  "if  Christoval  Colon  had 
not  listened  to  the  heresies  of  a  round  world,  we  would 
not  be  sending  these  saints  to  the  western  heathen  this 
day." 

Padre  Juan  looked  at  him  strangely. 

"  Tristan,  you  are  only  a  youth,  yet  I  must  warn  you 
not  to  say  words  like  that,  the  San  Clements  might  sail 
without  you  if  such  words  reached  the  Brotherhood. 
It  savors  of  careless  speaking  of  forbidden  things.  And 


26       THE    HOUSE    OF    THE    DAWN 

that  name  '  Colon,'  and  '  Christoval,'  why  give  the  Span 
ish  name  to  a  man  of  Italy?  " 

"  We  hear  it  sometimes." 

"  Then  you  should  also  hear  that  it  has  been  for 
bidden." 

"  I  was  reading  the  letters  in  his  book  at  the  monastery 
to  learn  things  of  New  Spain,  and  all  the  letters  are  in 
Spanish  and  were  so  signed;  none  in  Italian,  so  I 
thought  —  " 

"  Think  no  more,  and  speak  no  more  on  that  matter," 
said  Padre  Juan  in  a  tone  that  set  me  quaking.  "  The 
reasons  why  are  not  to  be  spoken  of;  it  is  forbidden." 

"  Yes,  father,"  said  Tristan  obediently,  and  went  on 
with  his  careful  work  on  the  statute,  though  I  slipped 
out  of  the  strong  room  as  soon  as  might  be,  and  was 
relieved  to  see  Padre  Juan  follow  soon.  I  sat  on  the 
veranda  to  watch  if  by  any  chance  he  turned  towards 
the  office  of  the  tribunal,  but  to  my  relief,  he  went  on 
the  way  to  the  chapel.  I  never  before  had  heard  Padre 
Juan  speak  with  severity  to  Tristan  Rueda  —  it  was  as 
if  my  world  were  turning  topsy-turvy. 

And  the  night  was  the  equal  of  that  day  in  surprises. 
It  may  have  been  the  excitement  by  which  I  was  kept 
wakeful,  or  the  very  dread  of  that  shadowy  Holy  Broth 
erhood  whose  eyes  were  everywhere.  Be  that  as  it 
may,  I  wakened  suddenly  with  a  fright  at  the  silence, 
for  there  was  not  even  the  sound  of  the  breath  of  Tristan 
in  the  room,  and  in  the  sickly  light  of  the  old  moon,  I 
crept  to  his  bed  and  found  his  pillow  empty.  Also  the 
bed  was  cold.  Scarcely  within  an  hour  had  he  lain 
there. 

The  wonder  is  that  I  did  not  call  aloud.    It  was  the 


THE  THINGS   FORBIDDEN          37 

thing  I  wanted  first  to  do.  But  that  warning  of  Padre 
Juan's  still  ringing  in  my  ears  brought  me  a  terror,  and 
also  a  desire  to  find  Tristan  in  silence,  if  I  alone  could 
find  him  at  all. 

The  cocks  were  crowing,  though  there  was  no  dawn. 
Could  it  be  that  he  had  risen  while  it  was  yet  night  to 
work  on  his  tasks? 

Quiet  as  might  be,  I  slipped  into  clothing,  and,  with 
out  shoes,  went  through  the  halls  and  down  the  stone 
steps  to  the  door  of  the  strong  room  where  the  things 
of  merchandise  were  kept.  Beyond  were  the  foreign 
wines  and  other  importations.  In  the  anteroom  his 
work  on  the  carven  saints  had  seemed  finished. 

But  through  the  keyhole  a  light  came,  and  I  heard 
strange  noises  as  of  an  auger  and  then  of  muffled  ham 
merings.  Try  as  I  would,  I  could  not  see  farther  than 
the  little  circle  gained  by  one  eye  at  the  keyhole,  but 
the  ancient  musty  treasure  chest  of  General  de  Ordono 
was  in  the  corner.  I  saw  Tristan  open  it  with  a  key 
and  then  I  scarcely  dared  breathe  —  so  eager  was  I  to 
see  the  treasure  there. 

I  might  as  well  have  taken  my  comfort  in  bed  for  all 
the  treasure,  not  a  thing  could  I  see  but  rolls  of  parch 
ment  and  some  brown  books ;  then  with  a  sharp  knife, 
Tristan  cut  the  leather  cover  from  every  book  and  tossed 
the  covers  back  into  the  open  chest !  That  was  a  thing 
so  at  variance  with  his  every  previous  act  that  I  was 
given  a  fright  by  it.  There  was  no  sacrifice  Tristan 
Rueda  would  not  make  if,  by  any  privation,  he  might 
earn  or  borrow  books.  He  had  the  knack  of  languages, 
and  would  chaffer  with  a  Greek  sailor  for  even  a  book 
of  prayers  in  a  foreign  tongue.  His  love  of  books  was 


28       THE    HOUSE    OF    THE    DAWN 

so  pronounced  that  Padre  Juan  was  wise  in  giving  him 
warning  as  to  the  laws  of  Mexico. 

When  one  is  startled  or  badly  frightened,  he  does  not 
think,  he  only  feels ;  and  I  was  filled  with  an  unreason 
ing  fear  that  Tristan  had  gone  mad,  all  alone  there  in 
the  night.  In  a  shrill  whisper  I  tried  to  reassure  him 
of  my  presence,  though  I  was  strongly  put  to  it  not  to 
turn  and  run  blindly,  screaming  for  everybody. 

Tristan  opened  the  door,  perhaps  fearing  the  thing 
I  was  tempted  to,  and  his  face  was  death  white  in  the 
light  of  the  candle,  as  he  dragged  me  in,  his  hand  over 
my  mouth. 

"  You  have  risked  your  life,  your  freedom,  and  more 
than  that,"  he  said ;  "  but  now  that  you  are  here,  stay 
you  must  to  the  end.  You  may  have  it  in  your  power 
for  the  rest  of  your  life  to  send  me  to  hell,  when  the 
thought  comes  to  you,  Juanito.  Tend  your  thoughts 
that  way?  or  may  I  trust  the  man  your  boyhood  will 
make?" 

My  teeth  were  like  castanets  in  their  chatter,  for  I 
could  only  shake  and  stare  at  that  which  I  saw.  San 
Pedro,  with  the  keys  of  heaven  in  his  hand,  lay  flat  on  his 
back  on  the  floor,  and  was  made  hollow  from  his  feet  up 
and  in  that  cavity  were  packed  rolls  of  parchment. 
Santa  Cecilia  was  treated  likewise,  but  a  block,  cun 
ningly  contrived,  fitted  over  the  work  and  was  fresh 
painted  with  blue  and  gilding.  I  saw  then  why  Tristan 
had  much  care  of  the  saints  donated  to  Mexican  chapels. 
Also  there  was  a  cask  of  Greek  wine  emptied  into  a 
great  jar,  and  the  cask  was  packed  with  books  to  the 
right  weight,  and  around  them  fresh  straw. 

"  Speak  you,  Juanito,  but  speak  in  whispers." 


THE   THINGS   FORBIDDEN          29 

"  What  —  what  would  chance  to  you  if  "  — 

"  There  would  be  a  fine  burning  at  the  next  auto-da-fe, 
but  first  there  would  be  one  here,  for  the  brandy  in  that 
corner  would  take  fire  and  all  within  these  walls  would 
go  up  in  smoke  before  you  would  be  let  go  to  give  warn 
ing.  Even  then  it  might  be  thought  that  you  only 
dreamed  all  you  think  you  see  here !  It  would  be  a  loss 
to  learning  if  the  books  were  destroyed,  and  men  are 
hungry  for  learning.  Speak  now,  Juanito,  but  think  if 
you  have  faith  in  yourself  to  be  silent  always." 

I  tried  to  think,  but  all  that  came  in  my  head  was  the 
voice  of  Don  Rodrigo  when  he  had  said  to  Tristan  in 
the  sala,  "  You  are  a  man,  comrade ;  years  do  not  always 
make  a  man,  but  you  have  held  the  secret  of  men  since 
you  were  the  height  of  my  knee." 

I  had  been  thrilled  by  that  praise,  for  it  had  been 
wrung  from  a  frightened  old  soldier,  and  now  I  was  to 
be  put  to  the  test  as  to  whether  I  also  could  ever  compel 
such  approval.  That,  I  am  sure,  was  the  thing  which 
urged  me  to  whisper,  "  I  can  be  silent,  Tristan." 

With  a  bit  of  old  canvas  he  covered  again  the  keyhole 
from  which  a  draft  had  made  it  fall,  and  then  in  silence 
he  bound  my  eyes,  and  led  me  to  a  seat. 

"  It  is  only  that  you  see  no  more  than  you  already 
have,"  he  said,  "  for  that  will  be  trouble  enough  for  you 
to  keep  ever  out  of  your  confessions.  I  can  waste  no 
time  taking  you  back  to  bed,  and  what  is  to  be  done 
must  be  finished  before  dawn." 

So  I  sat  there  and  shook  with  fear,  and  smelled  the 
paint,  and  heard  him  use  the  muffled  hammer,  and  move 
heavy  casks,  and  at  last  gather  up  in  a  canvas  all  the 
broken  wood  bored  from  the  central  blocks  of  the 


3o       THE    HOUSE    OF    THE    DAWN 

wooden  saints,  and  when  my  eyes  were  uncovered,  we 
bore  it  to  the  river  and  cast  it  in. 

The  gray  of  day  was  coming  when  we  climbed  the 
stairs  and  were  back  in  our  beds. 

"  For  the  comfort  of  your  own  soul,  Juanito,  I  will 
tell  you  that  there  is  no  word  of  evil  in  all  the  books  you 
saw  hidden  there.  The  man  who  turned  the  key  on 
them  was  General  de  Ordofio.  He  was  a  stanch  son  of 
the  church,  but  also  a  loyal  friend.  The  books  belonged 
to  a  friend  who  is  dead  to  the  world  —  a  letter  I  found 
tells  me  this  —  and  the  knowledge  in  the  books  is  now 
for  me,  if  God,  the  Father,  sends  good  wind  to  our  sails." 

It  was  a  comfort  that  he  assured  me  there  was  no  evil, 
for  Tristan  was  ever  truthful  to  boldness. 

No  other  word  passed  between  us  concerning  that 
night  of  work  in  the  strong  room,  but  he  put  his  hands 
on  my  shoulders  and  looked  very  hard  into  my  eyes 
before  the  last  boat  left  shore  for  the  San  Clemente,  and 
then  he  took  my  hands  close  in  his. 

"  Juanito,  you  have  a  friend  waiting  in  the  New  World 
if  ever  you  should  set  sail  there,"  he  promised,  and  then 
he  said  no  more,  but  bent  his  head  to  the  blessing  of 
Padre  Juan,  and  I  went  back,  sad  enough,  to  the  chapel, 
with  the  hope  that  my  viceregal  uncle  would  send  for 
me  soon  as  might  be. 

The  secret  of  that  night  gave  me  vast  importance  in 
my  own  thoughts.  I  had  asked  no  question  of  the  books 
and  parchments,  sure  that  if  the  General  de  Ordono  had 
hidden  them  away,  it  must  have  been  for  a  good  purpose. 
It  never  occurred  to  my  childish  mind  that  the  general 
was  not  as  much  scholar  as  soldier,  or  that  the  contents 
of  the  books  were  not  known  to  him.  Like  Don  Rodrigo, 


THE    THINGS    FORBIDDEN         31 

his  brother,  he  had  been  the  ranging  adventurer  rather 
than  the  student. 

As  the  years  passed  after  Tristan's  going,  strange  tales 
came  eastward  over  the  seas  in  every  ship,  until  all  the 
youth  and  half  the  priesthood  were  stung  by  the  gadfly 
of  unrest  to  garner  gold  or  heathen  souls  in  the  New 
World.  Padre  Juan,  traveling  to  Cordoba,  brought  me 
a  wonder  feast  of  intelligence  from  the  letters  of  Tristan 
—  the  De  Ordofio  mines  were  even  more  rich  than  Don 
Rodrigo  had  hoped ;  Marco  was  in  such  favor  that  it  was 
said  a  high  official  would  not  be  averse  to  giving  his 
daughter  to  a  husband  of  such  riches,  though  Don  Rod 
rigo  would  see  to  it  that  this  should  not  come  about,  for 
his  heart  was  set  on  uniting  the  families  of  De  Ordono 
and  De  Llorente  y  Rivera. 

Of  Tristan  there  were  no  great  riches  told,  but  adven 
tures  even  more  dear  to  the  heart  of  a  boy.  He  had  gone 
north  into  the  heathen  land  with  a  godly  friar  whose 
mission  work  was  as  a  miracle,  so  many  of  the  pagans 
had  he  won  for  salvation.  Into  the  far  wilderness  they 
had  gone,  and  the  walls  of  chapels  and  convents  were 
rising  toward  heaven  as  quickly  as  the  poor  heathen 
could  shape  the  timber  and  make  the  bricks. 

Not  so  much  news  did  he  send  of  the  cities  of  the  new 
land,  except  that  they  were  unduly  housing  too  many 
of  the  idle  adventurers  who  lounged  in  sun  or  shadow, 
waiting  newly  arrived  riches  from  the  mines,  and  all 
the  gay  carouse  of  the  gamblers'  heaven.  He,  Tristan, 
escaped  all  such  danger  by  lack  of  gold,  and  by  the  garb 
of  the  convent.  He  went  as  a  lay  brother  with  Fray 
Fernando,  as  the  dress  of  the  order  was  a  help  in  herding 
the  flocks  of  heathen  lambs.  Already  he  was  learning 


s 


32        THE    HOUSE    OF    THE    DAWN 

the  language,  and  noting  down  many  of  their  strange 
thoughts  of  the  false  gods  to  which  they  had  in  ignor 
ance  given  worship. 

Padre  Juan  was  very  happy  over  this  word.  It  was 
as  if  his  pupil  were  already  on  the  golden  ladder  to  a 
Bishop's  mitre,  at  least.  If  he  was  not  to  be  a  painter 
of  saints,  he  might  do  even  better  and  become  a  saint 
himself  in  his  zeal  for  converts ! 

Our  good  Padre  Juan  read  into  that  account  more,  I 
think,  than  he  got  out  of  it.  I  had  not  seen  so  much  of 
saintliness  in  the  spirit  of  Tristan  Rueda;  and  that  he 
wore  on  his  journeys  the  robe  of  a  monk,  was  as  if  he 
had  protected  his  legs  with  a  new  sort  of  boot  or  armor 
to  fit  the  desert  he  was  to  cross. 

Of  cousin  Sancha,  Padre  Juan  had  little  to  say,  except 
that  she  had  grown  more  tall.  There  is  not  much  else 
a  priest  may  tell  a  lad  concerning  a  maid. 

But  I  was  soon  to  need  no  messenger  to  tell  me  any 
thing.  From  the  archbishop  came  the  word  for  which  I 
had  prayed  rather  than  hoped.  I  was  to  see  a  bit  of  the 
world,  and  fit  myself  in  good  time  for  even  a  place  at 
court,  if  need  be.  I  was  chosen  as  one  of  the  pages  in 
his  train,  and  this  ended  my  school  days  and  took  me  to 
Seville  for  the  requisite  preparation. 


CHAPTER  IV 

IN  MEXICO 

SO  AGAIN  I  saw  Sancha,  and  felt  myself  more 
dumb  and  stupid  than  ever  in  the  light  of  her 
beauty,  for  which  there  were  no  words. 

"  But  —  you  are  a  woman !  "  I  found  myself 
saying  as  I  stared  at  her,  and  she  laughed  —  the  dear, 
lighthearted,  reckless  laugh  the  good  nuns  could  never 
tone  down  to  a  discreet  smile  or  simper. 

"  A  woman,  Juanito  mine,  and  either  a  married  woman 
or  a  nun  before  I  am  grown  much  more  in  height,"  she 
said,  nodding  her  pretty  head,  and  her  gray  eyes  dark 
ling.  "  I  am  sick  of  gray  walls,  and  priest  letters,  and 
there  is  no  one  to  tell  it  to  but  you.  I  sang  with  joy 
when  I  heard  you  were  coming.  We  will  go  into  the 
orchard  where  I  will  bring  my  love  gifts  to  show  you, 
and  there  we  can  talk." 

It  was  like  paradise  to  be  with  her,  and  I  choked  back 
a  sigh  as  she  spoke  of  her  love  gifts.  Though  I  should 
bring  down  the  moon  out  of  the  sky  for  her,  she  would 
regard  it  only  as  a  kinsman's  gift. 

She  came  back  to  me  in  a  little  while,  with  her  skirt 
gathered  up  and  loaded  full,  as  a  peasant  woman  would 
carry  cabbages  or  onions,  and  then  with  a  laugh  in 
which  there  was  derision  of  herself,  she  let  fall  her  load 
at  my  feet  —  and  I  stared,  and  laughed,  and  then  grew 
sober  enough  as  I  saw  her  eyes. 

33 


34        THE    HOUSE    OF    THE    DAWN 

These  were  her  love  gifts  from  over  the  sea  for  all  the 
years,  and  not  one  thing  but  the  Indian  dolls  and  beads 
and  toys  such  as  had  been  sent  in  the  very  first  ship ! 

"  Every  homeward  vessel  shows  me  I  am  not  for 
gotten,"  she  said  with  a  little  crooked  smile.  "  Yet  who 
is  it  remembers  me?  Some  one  to  whom  I  am  still  a 
little  child!  Here  are  the  letters;  they  are  the  same. 
They  come  to  the  Mother  Abbess.  When  that  monk, 
Fray  Fernando,  was  north  among  the  heathen  there 
were  no  letters.  But  the  end  has  come.  There  are  lovers 
in  Spain  if  not  over  the  water  —  and  I  have  written  and 
told  that  to  Don  Rodrigo. 

"You  have  sent  a  letter,  one  you  wrote?"  Our 
women  were  not  bookish.  To  read  the  lives  of  the 
saints  it  was  good  enough  to  know  how,  but  the  writing 
of  letters  was  not  so  well  for  maids.  And  in  the  end 
you  will  see  that  was  where  the  plain  trail  for  trouble 
began  for  Sancha. 

When  I  told  her  that  I  myself  was  to  sail  in  the  next 
vessel,  and  that  I  would  carry  the  message  to  Don  Rod 
rigo  or  to  Marco,  she  was  wild  with  protests  that  we  all 
could  journey  to  see  the  world,  while  for  her,  a  maid, 
there  was  nothing  to  do  but  stay  close  at  home,  and 
make  endless  prayers. 

"  But  not  to  Marco  shall  you  carry  word  for  me,"  she 
declared  with  pride.  "  It  is  to  Don  Rodrigo,  Padre  Juan 
is  writing  the  word,  for  it  is  only  poor  old  Don  Rodrigo 
who  sends  the  letters  —  and  selects  these,"  and  she 
touched  the  heap  of  dolls  with  her  foot.  "  Poor  Don 
Rodrigo!  He  made  the  betrothal,  and  now  he  sends 
all  the  love  gifts !  No,  if  Marco  de  Ordono  thinks  he  has 
taken  a  step  upward  in  the  favor  of  our  family,  it  may 


INMEXICO  35 

be  as  well  he  is  given  a  lesson.  I  will  write  him  a 
reminder.  I  thought  I  was  married  to  him  that  day  he 
sailed  away,  but  my  mind  is  changed.  If  ever  I  marry 
him  it  will  be  after  he  has  wooed  me  —  and  gifts  of 
Indian  dolls  will  not  serve." 

Here  was  a  new  sort  of  trouble,  for  I  was  boy  enough 
to  fear  that  a  bearer  of  fiery  messages  would  lack  the 
welcome  I  longed  for  in  New  Spain.  Yet  what  was 
there  but  to  do  her  will,  and  do  it  with  the  best  grace  I 
could  muster? 

She  wept  at  our  parting,  and  kissed  me,  and  after  that 
I  knew  little  of  how  I  tumbled  into  the  small  boat 
at  the  shore,  or  how  I  went  up  over  the  side  of  the  ship 
and  landed  on  the  deck,  striving  as  might  be  to  remember 
that  as  grandnephew  to  the  viceroy  of  Mexico  I  was  a 
personage  of  importance  aboard  ship,  and  that  to  shed 
the  tears  I  felt  would  not  be  in  keeping  with  my  dig 
nities. 

From  the  Azores  I  sent  back  a  letter  to  Sancha,  telling 
her  all  that  had  happened,  and  then  we  set  sail  out  over 
the  untracked  waters  to  the  west,  and  with  every  dawn 
ing  and  every  nightfall  the  wonder  grew  in  my  mind  as 
to  the  bigness  of  the  man  who  first  ventured  there,  for 
we  had  calms  and  hurricanes  and  our  own  share  of  sea 
troubles ;  added  to  which  was  the  ever  restless  watch  for 
English  pirates  and  French  corsairs.  But  at  last  our 
stubborn  vessel  proved  her  worth  by  bearing  us  all  safe 
to  Hispaniola  where  we  rested  a  week  for  the  mending 
of  ship,  the  taking  on  of  fresh  water  and  other  pro 
visions;  and  I,  who,  during  the  hurricanes,  had  strong 
conviction  that  food  of  earth  could  never  more  attract 
me,  was  astonished  at  my  own  appetite,  for  surely  never 


36        THE    HOUSE    OF    THE    DAWN 

had  fruit  or  meat  such  wonderful  delicacy  as  that  of 
the  tropic  land.  This  was  the  effect  of  the  many  weeks 
of  salted  pork,  and,  at  the  last,  none  too  much  of  that. 

From  there,  in  due  time,  the  Santa  Maria  sailed  west 
ward  through  sea  gardens,  for  the  days  were  few  when 
we  saw  neither  palm  isles,  nor  canoes  of  the  natives  or 
traders  with  fruits,  nuts,  or  fowl  for  sale. 

At  Havana  ill  word  was  waiting.  A  ship  from  Mexico 
was  in  harbor,  and  there  was  much  of  surmise  over 
changes  to  be  made  because  of  an  illness  of  the  viceroy. 
His  physician  had  made  the  statement  that  his  years  of 
work  for  church  and  crown  had  left  their  mark,  and  that 
a  new  archbishop  and  a  new  viceroy  would  be  named, 
for  the  good  Fray  Payo  was  making  arrangements  to 
resign  and  end  his  days  in  a  monastery  in  the  old  home 
land  of  Spain. 

Here  was  a  new  turn  to  my  wheel  of  life.  Were  all 
my  dreams  of  viceregal  grandeur  to  melt  beneath  the 
tropic  suns?  In  my  excitement  I  had  ill  thoughts  of  a 
man  who  could  remain  viceroy  and  archbishop,  yet 
choose  a  monk's  cowl  instead.  Why,  it  was  to  be  a 
king  so  far  as  power  was  concerned,  and  even  the 
unknown  grandnephew  might  hope  to  fare  well  under 
such  patronage. 

Whatever  else  I  heard  of  concern  passed  me  unheeded. 
Even  my  boy's  joy  of  new  sights  and  new  lands  was 
dampened,  and  my  greatest  fear  was  that  I  might  be 
called  upon  to  face  about  and  journey  back  with  him 
through  the  hurricanes  to  Seville.  Yet,  would  a  monk 
in  a  monastery  need  a  page?  Could  I  not  hope  to  live 
in  New  Spain  if  Marco  could  live  there?  I  assured 
myself  yes,  and  remembered  with  gladness  the  words 


INMEXICO  37 

of  Tristan  Rueda.  There,  at  least,  I  would  have  a 
friend  though  all  the  people  of  our  own  family  should 
fail  me. 

Thus  I  argued  myself  across  the  seas  from  Havana, 
and  questioned  with  eagerness  the  first  man  aboard  at 
Vera  Cruz.  The  viceroy  was  able  to  walk  again,  but 
he  had  gone  through  two  months'  siege  of  fever,  and 
was  peacefully  preparing  for  retirement.  The  man 
spoken  of  as  his  successor  was  Don  Tomas  Antonio, 
Marquis  de  la  Laguna,  Conde  de  Parades,  and  it  was 
said  that  the  ruling  of  the  new  day  would  have  diversions 
of  its  own  and  have  little  likeness  to  the  six  years  of  the 
rule  of  the  good  priest,  Don  Payo  de  Rivera. 

By  this  I  gathered  that  the  new  ruler  would  at  least 
be  of  the  world,  worldly,  and  that  a  page  of  his  would 
see  gayer  life  than  with  an  archbishop.  In  fact  and  in 
truth,  I  see  myself  now  as  a  selfish  little  animal,  measur 
ing  the  greatest  only  by  their  ability  to  confer  favors. 
I  was  at  the  same  time  homesick,  if  I  may  call  it  so,  at 
losing  the  only  relation  I  knew  of  in  Mexico.  He  had 
seemed  to  me  as  a  bond  with  Sancha,  though  he  had 
never  seen  either  of  us! 

Each  new  thing  I  saw  on  the  great  journey  I  wished 
for  the  able  pen  of  a  Diaz  that  I  might  make  clear  the 
picture  of  it  for  her,  but  when  the  great  enchantment 
of  white  Orizaba  met  my  eyes  above  the  palms,  I  knew 
no  pen  was  equal  to  the  writing  of  its  beauties.  The 
natives  call  it  Mountain  of  the  Star,  and  Tristan  told 
me,  long  after,  that  it  was  used  by  the  ancient  priests  as 
a  range  finder  for  the  stars  forming  the  heart  of  heaven 
—  our  Polaris  and  his  circling  companions  of  the  Serpent 
and  the  Eagle, 


38       THE    HOUSE    OF   THE    DAWN 

Of  all  that  paganism  I  knew  nothing  then  or  of  the 
mythology  of  the  red  tribes,  but  it  is  easy  to  believe 
when  looking  on  Orizaba  that  its  meaning  was  linked 
with  the  sky  and  its  sacred  things. 

A  slender,  pale  priest  with  a  curious  Indian  rosary  of 
crude  turquoise  and  shell  was  with  the  cavalcade  going 
up  from  the  seashore,  and  he  told  us  much  of  the  strange 
land  and  places,  and  at  Pueblo  de  los  Angels  he  was 
greeted  with  glad  looks.  Little  brown,  naked  babes 
were  held  out  to  him  for  his  smile,  and  doors  were  open 
to  his  friends.  I  was  told  that  in  an  epidemic  he  had 
remained  to  care  for  the  stricken,  after  all  other  help 
had  fled,  and  the  Indians  came  near  to  worship  of  him. 
His  help  had  been  great  to  Fray  Payo,  and  he  knew  the 
tribes  from  Yucatan  to  the  pueblos  of  the  Rio  Brava  del 
Norte.  He  could  speak  in  the  tongue  of  many,  and  was 
called  "  El  Sabio."  I  heard  that  term  so  often  that  I 
took  it  to  be  his  title.  And  then  an  old  soldier  whom  we 
met  on  the  trail  doffed  his  hat  and  saluted  him  as  Don 
Fernando,  and  I  knew  that  the  slender  man  with  the 
face  like  old  ivory  was  the  friend  of  the  De  Ordonos  and 
the  writer  of  the  letters  to  the  abbess ;  also  he  was  the 
miracle  worker  with  whom  Tristan  had  made  the  jour 
ney  to  the  far  north ! 

It  was  the  first  time,  I  think,  that  my  mind  was  con 
sciously  impressed  by  force  of  character  apart  from  all 
the  trappings  of  circumstance  and  state.  Don  Fernando 
wore  a  habit  that  was  old  and  somewhat  frayed  as  to 
sleeves  and  hem,  and  we  had  some  richly  dressed  mer 
chants,  together  with  men  of  family,  in  that  group  of 
travelers;  yet  among  them  all  the  quiet  Don  Fernando 
won  central  place  without  striving,  and  the  most  pre- 


INMEXICO  39 

tentious  listened  when  he  spoke.  I  learned  that  the 
turquoise  and  shell  beads  were  gifts  of  Indio  tribes. 

He  bade  me  ride  beside  him,  and  showed  me  such 
kindness  as  a  traveler  might,  but  of  the  many  questions 
concerning  Marco  and  his  magnificence  he  could  tell 
me  little ;  only,  Fray  Payo  had  opened  the  door  for  him, 
and  his  handsome  face  had  won  its  own  way  to  prefer 
ment. 

As  to  Tristan,  he  had  made  great  headway  with  the 
strange  picture-writing  records  of  the  heathen,  and 
already  he  had  ranged  afar  on  every  quest  the  church 
could  send  him,  thus  adding  greatly  to  this  knowledge. 
Also,  he  had  painted  in  a  chapel  a  frieze  of  angels,  and 
the  native  chiefs  had  been  duly  impressed  by  those  spirit 
faces  gazing  down  from  the  clouds.  The  result  had 
been  curious.  Tristan,  though  not  in  holy  orders,  or 
like  to  be,  had  been  given  high  place  in  the  minds  of  the 
brown  people;  his  fame  had  traveled  because  it  was 
thought  by  them  that  he  could  see  the  spirit  people 
whom  the  heathens  were  convinced  were  everywhere. 
While  the  brown  priests  could  see  them  only  after  long 
fasting  and  prayers,  this  white  youth  with  the  brushes 
could  see  them  at  all  times !  When  a  revolt  threatened 
at  the  mines,  he  had  saved  the  lives  of  Marco  and  Don 
Rodrigo  by  learning  of  the  secret  leader,  and  painting 
his  portrait  with  a  fiery  devil  peering  over  his  shoulder. 
The  sight  of  it  frightened  every  native  to  his  knees. 
The  leader  was  shunned  and  would  have  been  killed  by 
his  comrades  but  for  Tristan,  who  saved  him  and  sent 
him  north  to  his  own  forests.  Thus  he  both  bettered 
conditions  and  saved  lives,  and  despite  his  short  stay  in 
Mexico,  his  fame  had  traveled  in  strange  ways  into  far 


40       THE    HOUSE    OF    THE    DAWN 

deserts  and  jungles.  Don  Payo  would  gladly  have  held 
him  in  the  town,  but  Tristan  had  the  blood  of  rangers  in 
his  veins,  and  was  restless  for  the  free  wild  places. 

Thus  I  learned  more  in  riding  beside  Don  Fernando 
than  ever  went  over  the  seas  to  Spain.  The  name  of 
Tristan  was  as  a  key  to  his  heart,  and  while  love  and 
loyalty  were  as  a  blanket  to  cover  the  acts  of  a  De 
Ordono,  I  could  easily  perceive  that  Marco,  with  all  his 
pride,  stood  not  so  high  as  Tristan,  the  ranger,  might 
stand  if  he  chose. 

Lad  though  I  was,  I  could  see  why  the  walls  of  palace 
and  monastery  were  left  behind  him,  despite  all  exalted 
patronage.  It  was  the  first  time  he  had  ever  ranged  free, 
and  of  patronage,  in  a  way,  he  had  been  given  more  than 
made  for  his  happiness,  since  it  chained  him  to  a  cer 
tain  allegiance  to  the  house  of  De  Ordono. 

The  air  was  like  wine  to  me  where  we  rode  hour  by 
hour  above  the  palms  and  into  the  oaks  and  pines,  with 
ever  the  snow  peaks  white  in  the  sun,  or  rosy  long 
after  the  sun  was  gone.  I  wondered  not  at  the  witchery 
by  which  Marco  was  held  from  Spain,  though  it  was 
true  he  could  not  even  think  how  fair  Sancha  had  grown ! 

Don  Fernando  knew  also  Luiza,  who  had  married  the 
soldier  Gomez,  and  to  her  home  he  took  me  that  I  might 
make  myself  fit  for  the  presence  of  the  viceroy  after 
all  the  journey,  and  when  I  saw  pretty  Anita  there,  the 
daughter  of  Luiza's  first  husband,  I  wondered  that  no 
mention  of  her  was  in  all  the  letters  home ;  for  Anita 
Gomez  was  sparkling  as  the  water  of  a  fountain  in  the 
sun,  a  slender  flitting  wisp  of  a  girl,  with  big  eyes  of 
brown. 

Luiza  wept  at  the  messages  sent  from  home,  and 


Lrn 


1NMEXICO  41 

showed  all  deference  to  Don  Fernando,  and  many  kind 
nesses  to  me,  and  made  plans  to  house  me  in  her  own 
home,  if  by  chance  the  illness  of  the  viceroy  should  make 
delay  as  to  my  comfort  in  the  palace. 

So  I  found  a  good  nest,  and  a  welcome  comforting  to 
a  strange  lad  in  a  strange  land.  Through  the  little  court, 
Anita  took  me  to  the  cell-like  room  of  Tristan's  choice, 
and  showed  me  his  Indian  mats,  and  rugs,  and  strange 
arms  and  paintings. 

"  But  those  we  never  touch,  for  the  records  are 
pagan,"  she  said  with  a  little  shrinking.  "  He  studies 
out  the  meanings,  and  puts  them  in  good  Spanish  for 
the  archbishop.  But  these  days  he  is  out  somewhere 
with  the  tribes,  and  you  can  have  his  room  if  need.  Tris 
tan  is  rich  in  beds,  for  there  is  ever  one  for  him  at  the 
monastery  of  San  Carlos.  They  are  glad  when  he  goes 
there,  for  he  is  helping  Fray  Bernardino  with  the 
paintings. 

"  And  what  of  Marco,  senorita?  "  I  asked,  and  thought 
how  much  prettier  she  was  when  the  red  flushed  her 
cheek  at  the  question. 

"I  —  I  am  not  so  exalted  that  your  excellency  should 
give  me  '  senorita ',"  she  said  slowly,  and  when  the  color 
went  again  from  her  face  it  left  her  pale.  I  did  not  know 
then  what  I  learned  later,  that  pretty  Anita  was  a  child 
of  love,  and  that  Luiza  did  a  Christian  thing  when  she 
married  the  father,  and  took  the  little  orphan  to  her  own 
heart. 

"But  what  of  Marco?  does  he  also  abide  with  you 
when  here  from  the  mines?  "  I  asked. 

"  Not  —  now,"  she  said.  "  Since  Don  Tristan  is  here, 
Don  Marco  is  more  with  his  palace  friends,  and  it  is 


42        THE    HOUSE    OF    THE    DAWN 

very  gay  there.  This  is  very  plain,  as  you  see,  senor." 
Anita  had  the  pretty,  friendly  ways  of  a  servant  who 
has  pride  in  service,  and  quickly  made  clear  the  remem 
brance  that  I  was  not  only  a  tired  lad  off  a  journey,  but 
that  I  was  a  Llorente  y  Rivera  and  the  grandnephew  of 
the  viceroy.  But  as  I  put  on  my  finest  apparel,  I  was 
more  than  a  little  oppressed,  and  longed  for  a  voice  of 
other  shores  that  would  call  me  "  Juanito." 

My  luck  would  have  it  that  my  regal  and  priestly 
relative  was  sleeping  when  I  made  my  visit,  and  a  very 
learned  gentleman,  Don  Martin  de  Silva,  the  vicar  gen 
eral,  saw  to  it  that  I  was  provided  with  a  companion  of 
my  own  age,  Gilberto  Lanchitas,  whose  uncle  was  prior 
of  the  consulado.  Together  we  climbed  stairs  and  looked 
from  towers  out  over  the  wondrous  valley  of  the  Mex- 
icos ;  and  the  perfection  of  it  all  was  enough  to  astonish 
even  the  most  loyal  Sevillan,  for  it  was  no  new  city,  as 
a  Spaniard  might  expect,  but  everywhere  there  were 
traces  of  ancientness  and  mysteries.  An  old  temple  was 
being  torn  dov/n  in  a  garden  back  of  Chapultepec,  where 
we  went  on  horseback,  and  the  brown  people  stood  by 
and  watched  the  carven  stone  being  carted  on  wooden 
wheels  for  the  building  of  a  stable;  and  I  thought,  and 
crossed  myself  at  the  same  time,  of  the  chapel  of  Charles 
the  Fifth,  set  in  the  midst  of  the  Moorish  marbles  of 
Cordoba.  Even  as  a  boy  it  seemed  to  me  sacrilege  of 
beauty. 

But  Gilberto  took  little  heed,  and  could  tell  me  little 
enough  of  Mexico.  All  his  thought  was  centered  on 
learning  the  latest  news  of  Spain,  and  what  was  said  of 
the  death  of  Don  Juan  of  Austria,  and  what  of  the  queen 
mother  and  the  court  intrigues,  and  so  on.  All  I  heard 


INMEXICO  43 

from  him  was  gossip  of  the  viceregal  succession  and 
the  probable  archbishop.  There  were  aspirants  for  both 
posts  of  honor  —  and  also  questionings  as  to  whether 
new  dignitaries  would  be  sent  out  from  Spain.  Gilberto 
had  an  eye  to  his  own  advancement,  and  plied  his  arts 
to  make  his  virtues  known  to  me,  as  a  relative  of  the 
viceroy;  as  if  he  had  not  spent  years  himself  in  shadow 
of  the  palace,  whilst  I  was  the  stranger. 

Such  discourse  was  of  small  profit  to  me,  for  he  was 
of  the  milk-and-water  sort,  ever  intent  on  his  own 
apparel  and  questions  of  the  latest  fashions  and  favor 
ites  at  court.  So,  soon  as  might  be  in  courtesy,  I  slipped 
away  to  range  alone  and,  though  I  knew  it  not  then,  I 
crossed  with  an  adventure  my  first  day  in  the  garden 
of  the  palace. 

I  had  no  intent  to  listen,  but  the  voice  inside  the  barred 
window  of  the  patio  was  the  sweetest  one  could  wish  to 
hear ;  it  had  the  deep  seductive  notes  and  again  the  light 
ness  of  love  music.  Truly,  to  this  day,  I  have  not  heard 
more  wondrous  tones  in  a  speaking  voice  than  those  of 
Dona  Perfecta  de  Dasmarinas. 

She  was  laughing  gently  as  if  teasing  some  one,  and 
then  she  said,  "  But  truly,  Don  Marco,  if  you  in  truth 
seek  to  serve  me,  how  is  it  that  your  friend,  Don  Tristan, 
never  again  comes  as  I  request?  If  he  paints  angels  for 
a  chapel,  why  should  he  not  paint  another  face  —  it  may 
be  —  for  a  palace?  " 

There  were  some  hesitant  murmurings  in  a  voice  I 
knew  after  all  the  years,  and  those  two  names  —  Marco 
and  Tristan  —  made  me  hold  my  breath. 

"  It  is  not  for  myself  I  care,"  continued  the  lady,  "  but 
when  one  has  been  married  to  a  man,  the  padre  ever 


44       THE    HOUSE    OF   THE   DAWN 

tells  a  woman  to  seek  to  pleasure  her  husband,  and  this 
is  a  thing  upon  which  his  mind  is  set.  Who  knows  what 
honors  there  will  be  to  divide  when  Don  Payo  goes?  Is 
your  friend  blind,  that  he  ranges  with  the  brown  people 
for  empty  learning,  when  his  talents  should  hold  him 
here?" 

Marco  assured  her  that  he  had  only  returned  from 
San  Luis  Potosi  that  hour,  and  that  he  had  faithfully 
borne  her  message  to  Tristan  of  the  honor  she  had  sug 
gested,  also  that  Tristan  had  been  booted  and  spurred 
for  a  sally  to  the  north,  and  made  comment  that  the 
painting  of  beauty  was  a  joy  not  allowed  to  a  maestro  de 
campo. 

Perhaps  the  lady  knew  Marco  was  framing  his  words 
as  best  he  could  to  please  her,  for  she  was  silent  a  bit 
as  if  in  thought,  and  then  said,  "  Remember  that  I  have 
trusted  you  in  this.  Don  Eduardo  wants  the  portrait 
of  me,  yet  will  he  value  it  the  more  if  I  surprise  him  with 
it,  and  "  —  she  laughed  softly  —  "  when  the  new  viceroy 
comes  in,  I  may  have  friends  to  ask  favors  for." 

Then  a  youthful  lady  quickly  crossed  the  corridor  and 
entered  the  room.  I  heard  her  called  Dona  Mercedes 
by  Marco. 

"  Perfecta,"  she  said  with  coldness,  "  your  husband  is 
waiting.  He  thinks  you  in  the  chapel  at  confession." 

"  I  am  this  little  minute  returned  through  the  garden 
and  stop  to  greet  Don  Marco.  He  is  as  a  stranger  from 
those  rich  mines  of  his.  Shall  we  ask  him  to  the  ball 
with  us  tonight?  " 

Then  their  voices  went  away,  and  I  hurried  through 
the  garden  and  around  to  the  entrance  of  the  palace  that 
I  might  see  them  come  out. 


IN    MEXICO 


Dona  Perfecta  fitted  her  seductive  voice.  Her  hair 
was  of  red  gold  and  her  eyes  brown,  and  her  every  move 
ment  had  the  slow  grace  by  which  you  were  made  to 
wonder  that  each  turn  of  her  head,  or  her  eyes,  was  more 
lovely  than  the  last.  And  to  think  that  Tristan  turned 
away  to  barbarians  when  he  could  paint  such  beauty ! 

Dona  Mercedes  was  not  beautiful,  but  looked  very 
capable  —  also  she  looked  not  well  pleased,  and  she 
stepped  into  the  waiting  carriage  without  the  helping 
hand  of  Marco  de  Ordono.  He  assisted  Dona  Perfecta, 
saluted  the  gentleman  who  entered  the  carriage  with 
them,  and  then  stood  uncovered,  a  very  courtly,  hand 
some  figure,  as  they  drove  away.  No  wonder  Sancha 
had  held  him  so  long  as  an  ideal  in  her  heart.  I  thought, 
and  still  think,  Marco  de  Ordono  the  very  handsomest 
man  I  ever  had  sight  of. 

That  he  had  joy  in  seeing  me  again  he  gave  every 
sign  of  in  courtesy,  though  he  looked  me  over,  made 
comment  on  my  growth,  and  wondered  at  my  coming. 
Why  had  I  journeyed  from  my  comfort  to  far  uncer 
tainties? 

I  told  him  that  Sancha  decided  those  far  uncertainties 
must  have  great  and  strange  charms  that  he  did  not 
return  from  them  to  claim  his  betrothed.  He  laughed 
at  that,  and  stared  at  me,  and  looked  after  the  carriage. 

"  Is  that  her  wording,  or  your  own?  "  he  asked,  "  and 
are  there  messages  for  me?  Come  within." 

I  was  presented  to  people  of  distinction,  and  noted 
how,  even  in  their  courtesy,  they  were  curious.  Thus  at 
the  very  gate  of  the  new  life  I  saw  the  uneasiness  of  the 
office-holding,  office-seeking  men,  for  whom  life  might 
be  changed  by  the  threatened  new  rule.  The  very 


46       THE    HOUSE    OF    THE    DAWN 

courtiers,  and  some  of  them  men  of  talents,  had  the 
natural  curiosity  as  to  a  new  seeker  of  even  a  small 
office,  especially  one  of  the  blood  of  the  viceroy. 

Through  these  several  signs  and  the  banter  of  Marco 
de  Ordofio,  my  heart  was  low  enough  in  my  boots  ere 
the  time  came  that  I  should  be  brought  to  his  eminent 
excellency,  the  priestly  viceroy.  Strange  enough  it  is 
that  the  little,  frittering  minds  take  the  courage  out  of 
one,  while  the  big,  simple  souls  provide  with  a  glance 
all  that  you  lack.  Thus  it  was  with  Fray  Payo  Enriqez 
de  Rivera,  the  archbishop  and  viceroy  of  Mexico.  His 
hand  met  mine,  and  his  other  hand  was  on  my  shoulder 
as  he  gave  me  welcome,  and  at  once  he  spoke  signifi 
cantly:  I  was  not  to  lose  courage  in  the  new  land  for 
want  of  a  patron;  he  would  make  that  his  own  charge, 
whether  he  stayed  or  sailed  for  Spain. 

Fray  Fernando  was  by  his  side,  and,  I  gave  a  guess, 
had  divined  my  boyish  uncertainties.  Thus  life,  at  a 
moment,  took  on  a  different  color  to  me,  and  I  could 
enter  into  the  gaieties  of  the  youths,  and  take  less  to 
heart  the  raillery  of  Marco  over  a  stray  lad  seeking 
adventure. 

Also  I  was  housed  in  the  palace,  and  to  give  me 
acquaintance  and  ease  of  mind,  was  made  page,  and 
Gilberto's  was  the  task  of  guide  and  friend  in  the  new 
and  care-free  office  to  which  I  was  assigned. 


CHAPTER  V 
THE  LESSON  OF  LISPANOS  TO  HERETICAL  SOULS 

THE  frail  health  of  Don  Payo  made  clear  that  his 
viceregal  office  was  a  burden  he  would  gladly 
lay  aside,  and  in  the  following  days  I  had  many 
opportunities  of  seeing  how,  little  by  little,  he 
was  making  all  plans  to  shift  safely  the  weight  of  both 
church  and  state  from  his  own  shoulders. 

To  Marco  I  said  little  as  might  be  of  Sancha  —  all 
the  more  so  that  she  had  sent  him  no  direct  message  by 
me.  All  that  came  was  safe  within  the  scroll  to  Don 
Rodrigo.  From  the  gossip  of  Gilberto  I  divined  that 
Marco  had  no  need  to  languish  for  maids  across  the 
water,  when  the  best  doors  of  Mexico  were  opened  wide 
for  him.  I  fancied  it  gave  him  a  swaggering  arrogance 
when  her  name  was  mentioned,  knowing  well  that  I 
dared  not  express  in  words  my  own  dumb  rage  at  his 
carelessness.  Between  women  and  the  desire  of  Fray 
Payo  to  show  preference  to  the  son  of  General  de 
Ordono,  Marco  was  at  a  point  where,  without  surprise, 
the  hand  of  a  king  or  the  glove  of  a  princess  might  be 
offered  him  without  his  special  wonder.  Thus  his  hand 
some  face  had  spoiled  him,  and,  as  was  apparent,  secret 
meetings  were  given  him  by  lovely  ladies  who  should 
have  been  at  confession. 

And  back  in  Seville  Sancha  must  make  herself  content 
with  Indian  dolls  and  prayers  and  strings  of  beads. 

47 


48        THE    HOUSE    OF    THE    DAWN 

So,  to  all  Marco's  questions  as  to  word  from  Sancha, 
I  gave  him  nothing,  since  the  word  was  to  Don  Rodrigo, 
and  was  well  sealed. 

My  great  desire  was  to  make  the  journey  to  the  mines, 
but  Don  Fernando  advised  against  it,  as  the  Indian  clans 
had  been  making  trouble  in  that  region,  or  in  one  I 
should  have  to  cross,  and  Don  Rodrigo  would  be  in  the 
city  as  soon  as  all  grew  quiet  again. 

It  was  while  I  was  waiting  his  return,  and  learning  the 
ways  of  the  town  and  people,  that  I  gained  knowledge 
that  Padre  Juan,  back  in  Seville,  was  well  informed  as 
to  the  strictures  placed  on  all  of  Mexico  by  the  Holy 
Brotherhood.  The  rule  of  Fray  Payo  was  questionably 
mild  in  their  eyes,  and  as  I  saw  long  lines  of  the  peni 
tents  doing  the  stations  in  the  garb  of  shame,  I  heard 
much  of  grumbling  that  the  Judaizing  apostates,  or 
the  pestilent  Lutherans,  were  shown  prolonged  mercy 
under  Fray  Payo  —  and  the  penance  of  weekly  pro 
cessions  and  edifying  sermons  was  little  short  of  encour 
agement  to  iniquity.  There  had  been  no  burnings  out 
of  sinful  souls  for  many  weeks.  More  than  one  of  the 
devout  openly  prophesied  either  epidemics  or  earth 
quakings,  if  holy  church  grew  lax  in  its  prosecutions  of 
heretics. 

So  a  company,  including  Marco,  was  sent  riding 
bravely  north  to  Texcuco  where,  report  said,  a  new 
Christian  family  had  refused  to  eat  good  pork,  and  added 
to  this  the  further  damning  evidence  that  neither  father 
nor  son  worked  the  fields  on  a  Saturday.  Therefore  the 
case  against  them  was  heavy  with  dire  import.  Many 
maintained  that  so  flagrant  an  affair  must  be  beyond 
even  the  mercy  or  lenient  word  of  the  viceroy.  And  thus 


LESSON  TO  HERETICAL  SOULS    49 

did  I  learn,  little  by  little,  of  the  warring  of  factions,  and 
the  reasons  why  a  man,  old  in  service  as  was  Don  Payo, 
would  be  glad  to  put  aside  the  honors,  and  the  endless 
fight  for  lives. 

Marco  rode  back  looking  like  a  hero,  with  his  arm 
in  a  sling  from  some  accident,  and  the  suspected  men 
and  women  were  led  with  their  hands  tied  and  ropes 
about  their  necks,  staggering  at  the  heels  of  the  horses. 
They  were  pelted  through  the  streets  to  the  prison,  and 
there  was  more  excitement  than  over  a  fight  with 
Indians,  for  it  was  said  that  heretical  books,  and  even 
a  Bible,  had  been  found  hidden  under  their  shelled  maize 
in  the  bins. 

A  great  scandal  was  made  over  the  matter,  for  the 
Lispano  family  were  not  insignificant.  Their  holdings 
in  land  were  important,  as  was  even  the  tax  to  the  crown 
on  their  mines  at  Zacatecas.  I  found  the  good  Luiza 
weeping  over  their  downfall,  for  their  province  in  Spain 
was  her  own.  But  Anita,  exclaiming  with  youth's 
impetuosity  against  the  trailing  of  ladies  of  delicacy 
through  the  dust  at  the  heels  of  troopers,  was  given  a 
word  of  caution  and  hard  query  by  her  confessor.  What 
sympathy  could  a  true  daughter  of  holy  church  hold  for 
those  who  made  plain  choice  of  the  devil  and  his  instru 
ments?  To  either  read  of  religion  or  discuss  it  was  for 
bidden,  as  she  well  knew  —  and  there  was  the  damning 
evidence  of  a  pious  mestizo  major-domo  that  pork  was 
not  eaten  at  the  Lispano  table !  Of  a  certainty  the  evil 
would  be  burnt  out  of  their  souls  and  their  bodies  at 
the  next  auto-da-fe. 

For  myself,  I  cared  not  much  for  the  meat  of  a  pig, 
where  fish  and  good  chicken  were  in  plenty,  despite 


50       THE    HOUSE    OF    THE    DAWN 

which,  for  many  a  day  after  that,  I  refused  every  dish,  no 
matter  how  tempting,  unless  pork  was  somehow  used 
in  it. 

Thus  was  my  mind  impressed  by  the  sight  of  the 
white-haired  man  and  his  drooping  daughters  stagger 
ing  in  weariness  through  the  dust.  Sons  and  a  nephew 
were  also  there,  but  they  were  more  able.  I  saw  Dona 
Perfecta  look  down  from  a  balcony  and  heard  her  com 
ment  on  the  white  skin  of  the  shoulder  of  one  prisoner ; 
it  had  not  occurred  to  her  that  a  Jewess  was  so  fair. 

It  was  my  first  sight  of  the  work  of  the  Brotherhood 
in  the  New  World,  and  has  never  left  me.  It  is  not 
that  it  was  more  severe  than  in  Spain.  Yet  in  the  older 
land  affairs  were  conducted  with  a  difference.  A  man 
might  be  caged,  or  he  might  wear  chains  through  the 
street  to  prison,  but  a  certain  decorum  was  observed; 
there  were  no  white-faced  girls  with  half-naked  backs, 
drawn  with  ropes  at  the  heels  of  prancing  horses.  Marco 
rode  well,  and  lifted  his  feathered  hat  to  Dona  Perfecta, 
and  to  his  saddlebow  was  tied  the  rope  of  the  youngest 
maid.  And  back  of  this  triumphant  procession  for  the 
faith  stood  groups  of  the  dark-skinned  natives,  staring 
at  the  pious  work  of  civilization  in  their  land. 

The  prison  was  full,  due,  said  the  grumblers,  to  the 
inactivity  of  Fray  Payo  to  order  executions.  But  Fray 
Payo  was  again  ill  in  health  and  could  not  have  the  care 
of  even  so  important  a  matter,  so  it  was  left  for  the 
audiencia  to  assist  the  Brotherhood  as  well  as  may  be,  and 
in  the  end  the  Lispano  family  were  prisoned  in  a  ware 
house  double  guarded  for  lack  of  dungeon  room. 

I  tell  of  this  unfortunate  family  whose  names  I  had 
not  even  known,  because  out  of  their  trial,  and  their 


LESSON  TO   HERETICAL  SOULS  51 

end,  came  illuminating  things  to  me.  They  were  judged 
and  condemned,  as  all  knew,  before  any  open  audience 
was  given  to  the  evidence.  But  in  the  end  a  public  sen 
tence  was  the  usual  form,  whereby  all  might  be  warned 
against  apostasy.  I  do  not  recall  that  a  word  was 
uttered  by  the  prisoners,  though  the  recorder  read  aloud 
their  words  and  admissions  under  the  torture.  There 
was  no  recanting  except  by  the  nephew,  so  all  knew  he 
would  be  conducted  as  a  trophy  of  glory  in  the  next  pro 
cession.  The  others  were  sullen  and  dumb  as  they  heard 
the  sentence  that  they  be  burnt  together,  and  their  lands 
and  mines  revert  to  the  crown,  except  for  the  gift  to  the 
mestizo  of  a  certain  competence  in  proof  that  the  Brother 
hood  ever  favored  its  faithful  sons. 

Yet  all  this  was  a  thing  of  custom;  and  I  listened 
beside  Don  Fernando  and  felt  the  tremble  of  his  slender 
hand  on  my  arm.  Always  he  was  white,  yet  at  their 
sentence  his  face  grew  whiter,  or  his  eyes  burned  more 
darkly,  for  I  could  but  note  it,  and  ask  if  he  were  ill  in 
health. 

I  had  no  answer,  for  he  was  staring  at  the  recorder, 
who,  with  the  help  of  another  monk,  was  fishing  from 
a  rawhide  bag  the  pestilent  books  found  hidden  in  the 
maize  bins.  The  Prosecutor  for  the  Faith  assured  all 
who  listened  that  in  the  pages  of  those  volumes,  without 
covers,  was  contained  iniquity  enough  to  either  raise 
devils  from  hell,  or  sink  all  the  land  under  their  feet  to 
the  regions  of  the  fiends  themselves!  He  admonished 
one  and  all  to  attend  a  special  mass  for  the  reason  that 
their  eyes  had  even  rested  on  the  forbidden  and  outlawed 
volumes.  Among  them  were  translations  from  the  dis 
graced  Luther,  books  in  Hebrew,  and  more  than  half  of 


52       THE    HOUSE    OF    THE    DAWN 

a  Bible  —  all  contentious  and  pernicious,  and  prone  to 
establish  insurrection  and  heresy  wherever  introduced. 

Many  at  the  trial  got  away  quickly,  or  turned  their 
glances  otherwise  than  on  that  stack  of  condemned 
iniquity.  But  my  own  feet  seemed  stuck  fast  to  the  tiles 
of  the  floor,  my  eyes  bulging  at  the  stack  of  books  in 
front  of  the  stubborn,  silent,  prisoners.  Not  one  of  the 
books  had  a  cover,  and,  as  in  a  dream,  I  thought  I  saw 
again  the  open  chest  in  the  storeroom  of  the  De  Ordonos, 
and  beautiful  covers  of  books  flung,  one  after  the  other, 
into  its  shadows  and  the  lid  clamped  shut. 

But  it  was  not  the  lid  which  fell ;  it  was  I,  and  after 
my  head  struck  the  hard  tile,  I  knew  nothing  until  I 
found  myself  in  a  bed  in  the  palace,  with  Don  Fernando 
beside  me,  and  heard  voices  saying  that  even  a  sight  of 
those  volumes  of  craft  cast  a  spell  over  me  —  and  some 
woman  also  had  fainted  on  hearing  they  could  raise  the 
devil ! 

I  was  yet  dazed  and  shaking,  and  Don  Fernando  sent 
the  others,  Marco  and  Gilberto  among  them,  reluctant, 
from  the  room. 

And  when  I  did  speak  it  was  whisperingly,  and  with 
a  dazed  mind,  for  I  asked  if  Tristan  were  safe. 

Don  Fernando  bent  his  head,  and  there  were  tears  in 
his  eyes. 

"  Safe,"  he  said,  "  thank  God,  he  is  safe  somewhere 
in  the  wilderness  among  savages  and  wild  beasts." 

Then  he  sat  beside  me  in  silence,  until  I,  feeling  better, 
would  have  risen,  but  he  took  my  hand.  "  It  is  growing 
dark,"  he  said,  "  lie  you  still  and  think  —  and  some  day 
tell  Tristan.  He  is  eager  for  books  because  it  is  in  his 
blood.  He  is  the  son  of  scholars,  yet  today  you  and  I 


53 

have  seen  souls  under  a  curse  because  of  that  hunger. 
Tell  him  of  that  —  all  of  it!  In  Catholic  lands  today 
scholarship  must  rest.  Under  the  robe  alone  will  he 
dare  study  religions,  and  then  only  in  the  books  of  faith 
of  the  one  religion.  I  say  this  because  even  the  study  of 
the  pagan  gods  may  bear  ill  fruit,  and  with  Fray  Payo 
gone  from  Mexico,  and  with  me  gone,  it  might  at  some 
time  of  life  go  hard  with  him.  Even  the  gods  of  the  sun 
and  those  of  the  stars  are  held  in  disrepute  by  the 
Brotherhood.  Thus  you  must  tell  him,  for  no  new  arch 
bishop  will  protect  him  in  his  searchings,  or  ask  trans 
lations  for  scholars  of  the  future." 

"  But  you,  Don  Fernando,  he  would  set  more  store 
by  word  from  you  on  such  a  serious  matter." 

"  I  may  not  give  it,  boy.  Who  can  tell  the  things  to 
come?  But  if  aught  should  chance  me,  give  to  him  my 
blessing  and  tell  him  of  my  pride  in  him.  The  pride  is 
great,  as  my  faith  in  him  is  great ;  to  Don  Rodrigo  say 
I  leave  to  him  the  thing  most  precious  on  earth,  and 
that  I  take  the  seal  from  his  lips." 

Then  he  gave  me  a  cup  of  some  bitter  tea  to  quaff,  and 
made  the  sign  over  me,  and  went  away.  I  must  have 
gone  to  sleep  at  once  for  I  knew  no  more  until  the  next 
day's  sun  was  in  my  eyes,  and  Gilberto  had  me  by  the 
shoulder  shaking  me  awake,  and  babbling  of  a  guard 
killed,  and  another  one  wounded  —  it  was  Mateo 
Gomez,  the  husband  of  Luiza  —  and  it  was  the  opinion 
of  Gilberto  that  now,  indeed,  the  town  must  have  some 
sanctified  burnings  to  make  room  in  the  prison,  for  it 
was  proved  to  all  that  the  warehouse  would  never  do. 

That  sleep  of  mine  was  so  curious  that  it  was  hard  to 
shake  out  of  either  my  head  or  my  legs,  and  I  wrestled 


54       THE    HOUSE    OF   THE    DAWN 

myself  stupidly  into  my  garb,  grunting  my  comment 
on  his  discourse,  and  was  put  to  it  to  unravel  head  or 
tail  of  it. 

But  a  sniff  of  fresh  air  and  a  cup  of-  cocoa  took  the 
numbness  out  of  me,  and  I  had  sense  to  sit  in  silence 
while  Gilberto  talked.  There  were  tales  abroad  of 
enchantings  of  the  devil,  for  no-  locks  had  been  broken, 
and  no  eyes  had  seen  the  going.  Yet  the  Lispano  family 
had  certainly  been  borne  away  —  every  he  and  she  of 
them  —  by  their  Master  of  Evil! 

Questioned  as  to  special  points,  all  that  was  known 
was  that  a  pious  monk  had  obtained  order  from  the 
Brotherhood  to  use  his  utmost  strivings  to  bring  the 
victims  of  Satan  to  open  confession  as  to  the  accursed 
volumes  found  in  the  maize  bin.  Armed  with  the  order 
of  the  Holy  Office,  the  doors'  had  opened  to  him,  but  no 
one  had  ever  seen  him  come  again  from  behind  the  heavy 
locked  doors  of  the  warehouse.  Yet  was  the  warehouse 
empty !  One  guard  was  found  who  looked  as  if  the  devil 
himself  had  had  the  strangling  of  him,  for  iron  fingers 
had  most  certainly  sunk  into  his  throat  until  the  life  was 
gone.  Also  Mateo  Gomez,  the  husband  of  Luiza,  was 
found  without  senses,  and  with  a  cut  on  his  head.  This 
discovery  had  been  at  the  change  of  guard  at  sunrise, 
and  the  captain  of  the  guard  was  up  for  reprimand,  and 
was  a  deposed  man  at  the  very  mildest.  Gilberto  won 
dered  who  would  be  named  as  the  new  captain,  and 
mentioned  the  name  of  Marco,  for  Marco  had  helped 
bring  in  the  heretics. 

And  from  that,  in  another  minute,  Gilberto  was  back 
at  his  old  subject  of  preferments  and  intrigues,  and 
thought  it  in  the  power  of  Don  Eduardo  Vidal  de 


LESSON  TO  HERETICAL  SOULS    55 

Dasmarinas  to  see  that  Marco  had  first  chance,  and  his 
word  would  go  far. 

I  heard  it  all  with  little  thought  of  Marco  or  his 
chances,  for  my  head  was  in  a  whirl  as  to  the  enchant 
ments  sent  by  the  devil  to  free  the  old  man  and  his 
daughters.  It  had  all  been  done  in  a  haste  scarcely 
human,  for  there  were  men  of  degree  —  and  women 
too  —  held  safe  behind  the  prison  bars  for  suspected 
heresy  these  many  years.  We  saw  them  in  the  lurid 
sanbenitos  —  the  very  color  of  flames  —  each  week  in  the 
procession  of  the  penitents.  Yet  this  family,  convicted 
of  apostasy,  heresy,  and  traffic  with  the  Prince  of 
Darkness,  had  rested  in  prison  but  one  setting  of  the 
sun  after  their  sentence  had  been  thundered  at  them  by 
the  Prosecutor  for  the  Faith.  All  the  evidence  was  most 
certainly  in  favor  of  infernal  agencies  —  a  fact  dwelt 
upon  by  the  Holy  Office  as  the  only  method  by  which 
their  own  efforts  for  the  faith  could  have  been  made 
void.  For  myself,  the  question  I  most  wanted  to  ask 
stuck  in  my  throat,  and  I  made  my  way  to  the  house  of 
Luiza  to  ask  after  Mateo,  for  whose  health  I  cared  little. 
He  was  the  scheming,  truculent  member  of  a  household 
otherwise  pleasant.  His  subservience  to  me  as  the  rela 
tive  of  the  viceroy  was  embarrassingly  pronounced.  I 
had  the  custom  of  visiting  the  good  Luiza  when  the 
husband  was  on  duty  elsewhere. 

But  that  morning  I  was  as  one  driven  there  to  hear 
the  thing  I  dared  not  ask,  and  I  found  the  two  women 
all  but  frantic  between  the  crippled  man  and  the  curious 
crowd,  from  which  came  every  variety  of  tale  as  to 
demoniac  assaults  and  their  consequences.  Poor  Luiza 
knew  not  whether  to  pray  for  his  physical  recovery,  lest 


56       THE    HOUSE    OF    THE    DAWN 

the  devil  should  still  withhold  his  wits,  and  Anita  was 
weeping  in  sympathy  and  lamenting  the  absence  of  Don 
Tristan  —  for  with  him  at  home  he  would  surely  find 
Don  Fernando,  and  that  was  the  only  intelligent  name 
Mateo  had  muttered. 

"Was  Fray  Fernando  his  confessor?"  I  asked,  with 
my  eyes  on  the  floor  and  my  heart  thumping. 

"  Surely  not  —  it  is  Fray  Felipe,  and  already  he  has 
been  here,  and  was  of  comfort.  But  know  you  not  that 
it  was  Fray  Fernando  himself  who  was  spirited  away 
with  those  heretic  Lispanos  who  chose  to  follow  the 
dead  law  of  Moses  rather  than  the  way  of  the  cross?  " 

"  No  one  has  told  me,"  I  said. 

"  Well,  it  is  so.  I  shed  tears  to  see  those  ladies 
dragged  by  soldiers  through  the  dust  of  the  streets  —  in 
shame  before  even  their  own  brown  slaves.  But  I  might 
have  saved  my  pity,  as  Fray  Felipe  told  us  both ;  for  the 
fiend  himself  was  certainly  master  of  the  beauty  of  those 
Lispano  girls,  and  it  has  proved  itself.  How  else  could 
all  within  those  walls  have  been  thus  suddenly  spirited 
awiay?  " 

"  Ay,"  ventured  Anita,  "  even  Don  Fernando,  whom 
all  knew  as  a  holy  person,  who  else  than  he,  so  wor 
shiped  by  the  Indios?  For  his  sake  they  would  make 
themselves  as  a  carpet  for  his  feet." 

I  looked  at  the  ugly  cut  on  the  head  of  Mateo.  He 
had  been  struck  down,  and  fallen  on  a  sharp  stone.  The 
fall  had  been  heavy,  and  there  was  a  fracture  of  the  skull, 
but  there  were  no  other  marks.  Evidently  only  one 
stroke  had  been  needed. 

"If  Don  Tristan  were  only  here!"  moaned  Luiza, 
over  and  over.  "  What  can  a  woman  do  with  a  wounded 


LESSON  TO  HERETICAL  SOULS    57 

man  on  her  hands,  and  a  guard  outside  her  door?  My 
wits  are  all  but  gone." 

"  I  am  here  at  your  service,"  I  said  with  kind  intent ; 
"  and  there  is  Marco  de  Ordono,  your  nursling  as  well 
as  Don  Tristan.  It  is  even  said  that  his  name  is  men 
tioned  as  captain  of  the  guard.  You  will  have  an  official 
friend  in  high  places." 

I  spoke  lightly  to  reassure  her,  but  was  little  prepared 
for  the  frightened  look  she  gave  towards  pretty  Anita, 
who  was  at  the  moment  outside  the  door,  listening  to  the 
condolings  of  a  woman  neighbor. 

"  Send  Don  Marco  not  here,  lest  there  be  troubles  for 
a  priest  to  mend ! "  she  mumbled  apart  to  me  as  she 
changed  the  wet  bandages  and  rilled  a  basin  with  water 
fresh  from  an  olla.  "  Know  you  not  that  Don  Tristan 
has  laid  a  threat  against  him?  " 

This  was  news  to  me,  as  I  had  learned  nothing  to 
indicate  there  was  ill  will  between  them,  and  I  said  so. 

"  Not  on  other  matters,"  agreed  Luiza,  "  but  the  girl 
is  as  a  little  sister  to  Don  Tristan,  and  —  as  you  may 
know  —  Don  Marco  whispers  at  many  windows,  and 
wins  his  way  through  many  doors.  The  saints  alone 
know  how  hard  it  is  to  guard  a  girl,  but  Don  Tristan 
knows  somewhat,  and  Don  Marco  had  his  warning  to 
walk  in  other  streets.  It  makes  it  hard  for  me,  for  Mateo 
favored  him,  as  it  was  one  ladder  to  a  step  up  at  the 
palace." 

"  What  do  you  mean  by  all  that?    What  girl?  " 

She  nodded  her  head  towards  Anita. 

"  God  alone  knows  how  it  will  end,"  she  said,  "  for  the 
child  no  longer  opens  her  heart  to  me.  She  trusts  and 
reverences  Don  Tristan  for  his  brother  spirit,  but  what 


58       THE    HOUSE    OF    THE    DAWN 

she  dreams  of  the  other,  no  soul  can  tell.  I  never  trust 
her  out  of  my  sight  but  for  confession  or  mass,  and  then 
a  neighbor  walks  beside,  for  how  could  I  live  if  a  boy 
and  girl  love  should  end  in  a  murder?  Don  Tristan 
made  the  threat  to  trail  him  to  hell  if  he  did  her  wrong, 
and  the  threat  of  Tristan  was  a  thing  to  fear." 

Here  was  a  new  turn  in  fortune's  wheel  in  the  new 
land  where  I  had  thought  life  would  be  free  and  simple. 
I  recalled  the  blush  of  Anita  when  I  had  asked  of  Marco 
that  first  day.  At  one  time  he  had  housed  there;  no 
doubt  he  still  would  have  had  that  pleasure  but  for  the 
most  unchristian  threat  of  Tristan. 

I  went  back  to  the  palace,  and  listened  to  words  of 
sympathy  over  my  faint  of  the  day  before.  Two  women 
had  also  fallen  unconscious  through  the  devilish  enchant 
ments  abroad,  and  one  of  them  had  become  a  mother  in 
the  night.  So,  in  one  way  and  another,  there  were  waves 
of  gossip  surging  about  me,  and  I  could  easily  sit  silent, 
and  listen  to  good  purpose.  Fray  Payo  was  ill  from  the 
excitement,  and  would  see  no  one,  and  to  Don  Martin 
de  Silva  was  given  the  task  of  dealing  with  the  Holy 
Office,  and  getting  to  the  bottom  of  the  affair. 

But  all  I  could  learn  was  that  it  was  Don  Fernando 
himself  who  had  put  in  the  reasonable  request  that  the 
"  reconciled  "  nephew  of  Lispano  be  separated  from  the 
convicted  apostates  before  an  attempt  be  made  to  reach 
their  sinful  souls.  And  it  stood  to  reason,  also,  that  a 
priest  who  had  won  savage  idolaters  from  their  false 
gods  would  be  the  one  man  most  like  to  win  these 
heretics  from  their  pernicious  ways.  But  for  all  the 
wisdom,  and  reasonableness  of  it,  the  officials  had  noth 
ing  left  but  a  dead  man,  an  empty  prison,  and  no  trace 


LESSON-TO  HERETICAL  SOULS    59 

of  two  maids  and  four  men  who  had  gone  under  the 
earth  or  into  the  air. 

The  guards  were  questioned  at  every  side  of  the  city, 
but  except  for  an  Indian  fiesta  out  by  Tlacopan,  and 
some  of  their  brood  going  and  coming,  the  streets  had 
been  still  of  all  traffic ;  neither  man  nor  woman  had  been 
abroad  more  than  was  the  custom  until  the  hour  of  early 
mass  at  the  cathedral.  I  heard  Marco  tell  Dona  Perfecta 
and  her  cousin  Mercedes  all  this,  as  he  rode  in  after 
making  a  circle  of  highways  north  and  south  to  establish 
the  fact  that  no  such  group  of  refugees  could  have  passed 
the  guards  on  the  way  to  either  coast.  And  how  could 
they  have  carried  with  them  a  man  so  noticeable  as 
Don  Fernando? 

It  was  the  opinion  of  Marco  that  Don  Fernando  had 
been  killed  by  the  heretics,  and  would  be  found  in  due 
time,  under  the  tiles,  or  in  some  other  secret  place. 

Thus  was  all  conjecture  seething  and  bubbling  to  no 
purpose,  when  Don  Rodrigo  rode  into  the  city.  In  Spain 
I  had  not  loved  Don  Rodrigo  beyond  reason,  but  at  sight 
of  him  in  Mexico  I  could  have  kissed  his  dusty  boots. 
Don  Payo  was  by  far  too  eminent  for  a  confidant,  but 
Don  Rodrigo  was  nearer  the  earth  —  and,  it  was  reason 
able  to  suppose,  would  know  the  other  half  of  most  I 
had  to  tell  him. 

As  soon  as  might  be,  I  followed  him  from  the  house  of 
Luiza  to  his  lodgings  near  the  monastery,  and  gave  my 
self  credit  for  even  that  patience.  I  had  stood  by,  silent 
as  a  fish,  while  he  had  been  overwhelmed  by  all  the  news, 
and  all  the  surmises  of  the  many  others,  but  when  I 
tagged  at  his  heels,  he  bade  me  come  along  as  a  good- 
natured  man  may  throw  a  kind  word  to  a  stray  puppy. 


60       THE    HOUSE    OF   THE    DAWN 

Not  that  a  companion  as  mute  as  I  was  a  thing  to  wish 
for,  but  after  all,  I  had  messages  from  home,  and  must 
be  accepted  as  the  bearer. 

Had  I  been  less  near  to  bursting,  I  might  have  had  a 
certain  pride  in  changing  his  mind,  or  in  the  mere  aston 
ishing  of  him,  but  I  was  far  beyond  all  that  in  my 
suppressed  terror. 

I  gave  him  the  folded  and  sealed  packet  from  the 
abbess,  which  he  accepted  with  the  sigh  of  a  martyr. 
Well  he  knew  it  would  involve  a  letter  of  duty  —  the 
aftermath  of  his  long-ago  matchmaking.  His  manner 
plainly  betrayed  that  the  reading  of  that  might  wait  until 
supper  had  been  eaten. 

So  long  as  others  were  in  hearing  I  told  him  the  latest 
news  of  his  friends  and  family  and  the  captain  I  sailed 
with,  and  all  such  topics  of  common  question. 

Then,  while  I  poured  for  him  a  cup  of  Greek  wine  sent 
by  Padre  Juan,  I  gave  him  the  message  of  Don  Fer 
nando. 

He  let  fall  the  cup,  and  the  wine  soaked  into  his  sleeve 
and  dripped  to  the  floor  while  he  stared  at  me.  I  poured 
him  another  cup,  for  he  looked  as  if  he  needed  it. 

"  Say  that  again,"  he  whispered,  yet  put  out  his  hand 
to  stop  me  when  I  would  have  spoken  aloud. 

"  Lower,"  he  said,  and  I  repeated: 

"  '  To  Don  Rodrigo  I  leave  the  thing  most  precious  on 
earth,  and  I  take  the  seal  from  his  lips.'  " 

"  God !  "  he  said,  and  quaffed  the  wine,  and  sat  staring 
at  nothing  for  what  seemed  a  long  time.  I  knew  he  was 
thinking  of  the  trial  and  the  mystery. 

"  Holy  God !  "  he  whispered  again,  "  then  he  knew  it 
was  the  end  of  him!  " 


LESSON  TO  HERETICAL  SOULS    61 

I  had  thought  as  much  myself,  yet  it  spelled  out 
none  of  the  riddle  of  his  disappearance. 

"  Indians,"  he  said  in  the  same  tone,  "  Indians !  For 
him  or  for  Tristan  they  will  do  the  impossible  things. 
Yet  what  could  the  Lispanos  mean  to  him?  Fernando 
was  not  heretic." 

"  But  he  had  love  of  study.  He  —  he  gave  me  a 
warning  against  seeking  knowledge  except  in  churchly 
books,"  I  ventured.  "  The  holy  prior  said  there  was 
enough  of  evil  in  the  Lispano  books  to  enchant  an 
army.  It  may  have  been  that  they  began  in  all  inno 
cence  —  with  the  books  —  and  then  the  evil  grew  in 
them.  I  only  know  he  left  a  warning  with  me,  and— • 
went  away." 

I  did  not  tell  him  the  warning  was  not  for  me,  for  I 
could  see  that  of  the  books  he  knew  nothing.  Books 
might  be  housed  under  his  very  nose  for  a  lifetime,  yet 
he  would  not  have  thought  to  turn  a  leaf. 

"  Indians !  "  he  said  again,  "  and  it  will  go  hard  in  the 
mines  without  him.  The  Indians  rebel  at  another  con 
fessor  —  there  his  strength  lay." 

"  And  what  of  Tristan's  strength?  " 

"  The  less  said  of  that  the  better.  The  lad  gets  under 
their  skin  as  though  he  had  suckled  the  same  breast.  A 
new  day  will  come  to  us  all  when  Fray  Payo  goes  —  and 
the  less  said  of  Tristan  and  his  Indian  strength  the 
better.  It  came  some  way  by  the  help  of  Fernando,  but 
the  pupil  out-distanced  the  master.  And  if  you  are  a 
friend,  you  will  caution  him  that  pagan  records  had  best 
be  forgotten :  no  new  viceroy  or  archbishop  will  serve  as 
patron  in  that  —  and  there  is  the  Holy  Office  with  its 
thousand  eyes !  " 


CHAPTER  VI 
TRISTAN  THE  RANGER 

THE  letter  from   Spain  was  forgotten  by   Don 
Rodrigo  in  the  excitement  of  the  Lispano  mat 
ter,  and  the  mystery  of  Don  Fernando.    He  was 
careful  not  to  betray  all  he  felt  concerning  the 
latter,  not  sure  of  the  wisdom  of  open  avowal.     The 
clergy  grew  cautious  about  expressing  themselves,  and 
were  alert  for  every  word  of  interest  that  was  dropped 
by  anyone.    The  common  people  might  have  their  own 
fancies  regarding  diabolical  agencies  in  the  matter,  but 
the  Holy  Office  had  ears  open  for  temporal  evidence. 
I  myself  was  never  so  devoted  to  the  interests  of  Don 
Payo.     I  scarce  moved  away  from  the  antechamber  of 
his  excellency,  and  came  near  to  losing  the  use  of  my 
tongue,  lest  I  should  say  the  wrong  thing. 

Then,  one  day  of  beauty,  when  the  winter  rain  made 
the  world  sparkle  anew,  Tristan  Rueda  rode  from  the 
north;  and  when  he  was  hailed,  I  stared  and  choked, 
and  tried  in  vain  to  say  the  civil  thing,  but  could  not, 
for  my  own  amazement  at  the  new  Tristan,  who  now 
had  the  look  of  a  sad  and  bitter  man  stamped  on  the 
features  of  youth. 

I  was  not  alone  in  the  wonder.  There  were  many 
questions  asked  of  his  health,  and  I  heard  comments  of 
various  sorts.  He  had  ridden  away  ruddy  and  careless, 

62 


.  ^nHJ  S  DtLS  E£=Tn  •;  '•  1  ts  fffiil 

•^•••••MMMMMM>M«MWMMMaMMVMM^HHMH»«W«MMMV*MMMttMMpWM^MHHVnHMHHHHVaMMWHMWMMM«M«BHi 

TRISTAN    THE   RANGER  63 

and  came  back  pale  and  hard,  as  from  a  campaign  where 
he  had  fared  ill. 

Yet  he  took  both  my  hands  in  the  old  friendly  way, 
and  looked  in  my  eyes,  and  when  he  went  in  to  Fray 
Payo,  I  was  the  only  one  who  went  with  him.  To  the 
message  of  Don  Fernando  he  had  listened  with  sudden 
tears,  and  he  did  not  let  go  my  hand.  My  venerable 
relative  smiled  on  us  both,  and  the  others  in  the  room 
were  sent  away. 

Then  Tristan  took  from  under  his  cloak  a  girdle  of 
cord  and  a  rosary  of  brown  wood  and  turquoise  and 
shell  beads  with  a  silver  crucifix,  and  laid  them  on  the 
knee  of  Don  Payo. 

Don  Payo  knew  that  crucifix,  and  his  hands  trembled 
pitifully  as  he  touched  it. 

"  Where?  "  he  said,  and  that  was  all. 

"  In  the  waters  north  of  the  Panuco." 

"Dead?" 

"  Dead  many  days,  and  alone.  There  was  a  boat  and 
a  storm.  If  others  were  there  they  escaped  north  or 
went  to  the  bottom,  but  the  Indies  found  no  boat." 

Fray  Payo  asked  for  a  map,  and  traced  with  his  finger 
the  long  line  of  coast  past  Florida  to  the  Virginias.  Then 
he  traced  the  great  river  from  the  north,  and  sat  in 
thought. 

"  That  way  the  countries  of  the  French  could  be 
reached,"  he  said,  "but  the  wide  lands  of  the  pagans 
would  have  to  be  crossed  —  and  with  women!  It  took 
Alvarado  and  his  men  ninety  days  to  reach  Panuco,  and 
they  had  no  women.  It  is  seven  years  since  the  French 
Jesuit  and  the  merchant  came  down  the  mighty  river 
whose  source  is  said  to  be  somewhere  in  Kathay.  It 


64       THE    HOUSE    OF    THE    DAWN 

may  be  that  people  of  a  colony  have  followed  their  trail 
by  ship  or  land,  and  that  beyond  the  Texas,  these  ref 
ugees  will  be  hidden  and  guarded.  But  the  way  is 
through  such  a  wilderness  as  to  appall  the  bravest.  Such, 
Tristan,  is  the  only  refuge  for  the  benighted  souls  fleeing 
from  the  true  God." 

Tristan  was  white  and  silent  while  that  wonderful 
old  mind  thought  out  the  chances  against  escape  of  the 
scholarly,  refined  Lispanos,  who  had  been  accustomed 
only  to  the  luxuries  of  life. 

"  Leave  these  with  me,"  he  said  at  last,  "  and  to  both 
you  lads — silence!  Careful  thought  must  be  given  ere 
a  brother  monk  is  held  forth  to  blame  or  shame,  and 
such  a  brother !  Every  turquoise  bead  and  every  silver 
one  here  is  some  pledge  of  prayer  from  some  brown 
convert.  This  is  a  matter  as  of  our  own  family." 

Then  Tristan  went  out,  and  I  beside  him.  He  had  to 
listen  to  all  the  rumors  and  conjectures  I  had  learned 
by  heart,  and  I  wondered  that  he  kept  his  face  steady, 
knowing  what  he  knew. 

"  These  are  the  ends  to  which  a  fool's  hunger  for 
knowledge  may  bring  his  friends  if  they  try  to  help 
him !  "  he  said  to  me.  "  Be  you  content,  Juanito,  with 
the  little  learning  of  a  harmless  man." 

And  beyond  this  he  uttered  no  word,  either  then  or 
later,  of  the  books,  or  of  the  people  who  had  hidden 
them;  but  I  saw  him  often  poring  over  the  maps  of 
that  north  shore,  and  knew  that  he  thought  much  of  the 
trails  to  be  taken  for  safety,  for  away  beyond  there  to 
the  east  was  the  country  of  the  French,  and  the  heretical 
Lutherans,  and  in  no  other  place  in  the  lands  of  the 
New  World  was  there  refuge  from  the  Holy  Office  — 


TRISTAN    THE    RANGER  65 

unless,  indeed,  a  sinner  might  risk  himself  with  the 
brown  pagans,  and  few  souls  could  brave  that  choice. 

Yet,  in  after  days,  I  took  note  that  from  every  trader 
or  traveler  Tristan  added  to  his  knowledge  of  these 
foreign  coasts  and  the  tribes  or  rulers,  and  though  he 
said  little,  his  ears  were  ever  open  to  the  older  men 
concerning  the  missions  of  the  north.  These  men  held 
much  converse  over  the  strange  loss  of  Fray  Fernando, 
whose  zeal  among  the  heathen  had  been  great. 

Mateo,  when  he  got  his  wits  and  his  tongue,  could  tell 
nothing  of  that  strange  going.  Don  Fernando  had  gone 
in  to  the  heretics,  and  the  door  had  closed.  In  peace  he 
had  done  guard  service  and  seen  no  one ;  then  a  blow 
had  made  him  senseless.  He  could  tell  nothing. 

But  the  Lispanos  were  all  burnt  in  effigy  at  the  next 
auto-da-fc  and  their  names  execrated  as  enchanters  and 
evil  heretics. 

For  myself,  I  had  the  feeling  that  one  of  the  huge 
volcanos  might  be  fuming  and  groaning  under  the  very 
city,  so  fearful  was  I  that  some  sort  of  explosion  was 
due  from  all  the  thoughts  suppressed.  But  as  the  days 
went  by,  and  nothing  further  happened,  I  began  to 
breathe  freely,  and  be  a  boy  again,  instead  of  a  scared 
child. 

Don  Rodrigo  had  a  touch  of  the  fever,  and  was  bled 
until  some  of  the  color  left  his  ruddy  face,  and  there  were 
days  when  I  was  more  his  page  than  Don  Payo's,  for 
always  there  was  some  seasonable  thing  sent  from  the 
kitchen  of  the  viceroy  to  the  old  soldier  in  the  inn  by 
the  monastery.  From  there  was  but  the  flight  of  a 
chicken  to  the  house  of  Luiza,  and  thus  I  saw  most  of 
our  friends  daily. 


66       THE    HOUSE    OF    THE    DAWN 

Tristan  had  quietly  fitted  himself  into  the  niche  of  the 
cloister  life  because  of  some  saintly  figures  with  which 
he  was  helping  Fray  Bernardino  for  the  chapel  there. 
Why  he  did  not  go  —  as  he  so  easily  could  —  on  some 
of  the  adventurous  expeditions  north  or  west,  would 
have  been  a  puzzle  to  me,  had  it  not  been  for  the  memo 
ries  of  the  Lispano  family  and  the  books.  He  plainly 
meant  to  stay  in  the  center  of  things ;  yet  by  taking  up 
the  painting  he  was  leaving  himself  free  from  all  offices 
by  which  his  feet  might  be  chained,  did  he  again  feel  the 
hunger  of  far  quests,  and  to  all  Marco's  urging  he  would 
take  but  little  share  in  the  affairs  of  state  at  the  palace. 
Only  when  Fray  Payo  sent  a  call,  did  he  go  and  go 
willingly,  and  his  service  was  great  in  many  matters 
dealing  with  the  tribes. 

To  me  it  was  as  if  he  had  put  aside  that  search  for 
adventure  and  strange  lore,  and  was  striving  to  take  up, 
in  body  and  spirit,  all  the  work  for  the  brown  pagans 
which  Don  Fernando  had  laid  down. 

To  Don  Rodrigo  he  was  doubly  devoted  in  the  illness 
caught  in  the  night  mists,  or  from  the  evil  waters  of  a 
bad  camp,  and  Don  Rodrigo  had  much  of  sympathy  for 
himself  over  many  things  those  days,  when  he  sat, 
shaded  from  the  sun,  by  the  great  rose  tree  at  the  edge 
of  the  monastery  wall.  A  ship  was  to  sail  for  Spain, 
and  by  trick  or  craft  a  letter  must  go  in  exchange  for 
those  I  had  borne  to  him  under  seal.  Of  the  contents 
he  had  never  spoken  in  my  hearing,  so  I  had  only  my 
guess  as  to  the  messages  of  Sancha.  All  I  did  know  was 
that  he  had  urged  Marco  to  sail  for  Spain  in  the  train 
of  Don  Payo,  and  had  been  given  good  excuses  instead 
of  consent. 


TRISTAN    THE    RANGER  67 

So  I  found  him  one  day,  grumbling  and  blinking 
sleepily  across  the  plaza,  where  the  Indian  carriers,  with 
bent  backs,  passed  in  line  under  the  pepper  trees.  They 
bore  loads  so  great  that  all  but  their  feet  were  hidden 
as  they  walked  patiently  on  in  the  sunshine.  I  have  not 
to  this  day  ceased  to  wonder  at  the  grave  repose  of  those 
people  who  pass  on  fatefully  with  our  burdens,  while  we 
lounge,  fretful,  in  the  shadow  of  walls  built  from  stones 
of  their  temples.  Whence  the  endurance? 

But  Don  Rodrigo,  fingering  the  letters  from  Spain, 
frowned  and  looked  at  them,  yet  saw  only  his  own 
troubles. 

"  They  have  no  cares  but  for  a  bowl  of  meal  or  a  cup 
of  their  native  brandy,"  he  insisted.  "  And  I  —  look  at 
the  loads  I  carry!  To  avoid  marriage  until  my  age, 
yet  have  the  matches  to  make  or  hold  steady,  for  every 
young  gallant  of  the  family !  What  use  to  pray  to  the 
saints  if  they  never  keep  a  man  out  of  trouble?  " 

"  Yet  without  doubt  you  will  go  on  paying  for  good 
candles  the  rest  of  your  life,"  I  said,  eager  to  hear  his 
discourse  of  the  letters. 

He  stared  at  me. 

"  A  man  must  be  a  Christian  soul  in  spite  of  the  devil," 
he  affirmed  solemnly,  as  if  recollecting  the  duty  of  in 
structing  youth,  "  and  the  light  of  altar  candles  does 
give  a  glow  of  righteous  satisfaction  over  all."  Then, 
after  another  stare,  "  Did  you  know  the  jade  had  learned 
to  write?" 

He  regarded  me  as  if  he  thought  I  was  somehow  to 
blame  for  this  objectionable  acquirement,  but  I  could 
only  confess  I  had  heard  somewhat  of  her  mind  on  the 
matter,  though  I  had  seen  no  written  evidence. 


68       THE    HOUSE    OF    THE    DAWN 

"  Well,  it  is  here,"  he  acknowledged  morosely,  "  a  dic 
tated  letter  to  me  by  the  hand  of  Padre  Juan,  and  a 
threat  of  worse  to  follow!  A  prayerful  letter  from  the 
abbess,  because  with  neither  guardian  nor  husband  to 
control  her,  the  little  Arab  is  like  to  do  some  wild  thing. 
Then  to  Marco  a  writing  of  her  own  —  and  nothing  less 
than  a  return  by  his  own  hand  will  content  her !  " 

I  had  a  glimmer  of  light  on  a  puzzling  matter. 

"  Is  it  for  that  reason  the  hand  of  Marco  has  still  the 
wrappings  of  a  lameness?  "  I  asked.  "  I  was  so  silly  as 
to  think  it  more  excuse  for  the  sympathy  of  ladies ;  they 
ever  love  a  man  to  need  their  ministrations." 

"  The  cowl  of  a  monk  to  you,  you  learn  fast !  "  he 
growled.  "  Yet  under  a  cowl  there  is  peace,  and  I  half 
regret  I  turned  from  it  at  your  age.  Fine  work  for  me 
to  have  this  marriage  business  on  my  hands  with  the 
two  of  them  half  a  world  apart.  If  Fernando  —  rest  his 
soul  —  had  lived — " 

The  whistle  of  an  old  Moorish  air  came  along  the 
corridor.  Don  Rodrigo  listened  and  then  nodded  his 
head  as  one  who  had  found  a  solution  of  his  problem. 

"  Tristan  always  knows,"  he  observed ;  "  every  man- 
jack  down-at-the-heels  scholar  in  the  city  is  more  or 
less  in  his  knowledge.  He  will  find  me  someone  to  do 
the  letters  instead  of  a  priest,  and  as  no  letter  by  Marco's 
own  hand  has  ever  gone  to  her,  how  is  she,  with  all  her 
temper,  to  know  the  difference?  It  will  be  a  discipline 
she  sorely  needs,  and  it  is  a  kindness,  too  —  for  Marco 
writes  a  vile,  unreadable  scrawl.  We  will  get  her  an 
cscribienie  of  elegance." 

Tristan  swung  along  the  corridor,  humming  the  air 
he  had  ceased  to  whistle.  His  step,  in  the  soft  leather 


TRISTAN    THE    RANGER  69 

boots,  had  the  virile  spring  of  life  in  it,  eager,  yet  not 
impetuous.  He  looked  a  strong  animal  held  in  check, 
almost  an  idler  for  want  of  a  task  he  fitted  —  and  dan 
gerous  fuel  for  the  fates.  I  did  not  reason  it  out  thus, 
I  was  too  much  of  a  boy,  but  I  was  set  athrill  by  the 
force  within  him. 

He  was  momentarily  elated  over  some  completed 
work  in  the  chapel.  Fray  Payo  had  sent  some  painters 
of  note  to  view  it,  and  their  praise  was  high.  Fray 
Bernardino  gave  him  credit,  and  they  had  protested 
against  a  youth  of  such  talent  wasting  time  on  Indian 
chronicles. 

"  That  marches  with  my  own  thought,"  decided  Don 
Rodrigo ;  "  why  rope  an  Indian  in  the  lake  and  drag 
him  to  shore  for  baptizing?  If  they  have  souls,  they 
have  also  a  saint  to  drive  them  in  for  confession  when 
the  time  comes." 

"  Many  would  wait  long  for  that." 

"  And  better  so  than  that  good  men  should  be  wasted 
on  them.  Think  of  the  army  of  priests  now  in  the  north." 

"  Mines  of  turquoise  are  there,  and  it  is  said  gold," 
commented  Tristan ;  "  that  should  be  good  cause  to  you, 
if  not  the  souls." 

"  Yet  the  true  mines  of  Mexican  gold  have  never  yet 
been  found,  with  all  the  aid  of  converts,"  grumbled  the 
old  man.  "  A  little  here  and  a  little  there  —  yes,  and 
much  of  silver  —  but  the  real  mines,  the  great  treasure 
houses,  where  are  they?  With  all  your  journeyings 
have  you  traced  them,  or  with  all  your  converts?  " 

"  The  gold  is  sacred  to  the  sun  god,  and  to  their  houses 
of  dawn,"  said  Tristan.  "  I  have  never  sought  by  words 
to  find  trails  to  their  sacred  things.  If  they  want  you 


7o       THE    HOUSE    OF   THE    DAWN 

to  know  they  will  tell  you  with  an  open  heart.  If  they 
are  made  to  answer,  they  will  only  lie." 

"  All  hopeless  sinners  given  over  to  the  devil !  But  it 
was  not  of  their  red  souls  I  would  talk.  It  was  to  ask 
how  far  you  would  go  to  favor  a  friend." 

"  If  you  are  the  friend,  Don  Rodrigo,  you  know  these 
many  years  I  am  bound  to  your  house." 

"  Hark  now !  That  is  it,  lad ;  it  is  for  the  house  of 
De  Ordono  itself  I  need  loyalty,  else  how  is  the  house  to 
continue  if  there  are  not  marriages?  and  how  are  mar 
riages  to  be  if  there  is  not  love-making  of  some  sort 
or  pretense?  " 

Tristan  smiled,  and  it  was  the  first  smile  of  his  I  had 
seen  in  Mexico. 

"  If  it  is  love-making,  why  not  do  it  yourself?  "  he 
asked.  "  You  are  substantial,  and  comely  to  the  eye, 
even  after  all  your  bloodletting." 

"  But  this  is  a  serious  matter !  "  protested  the  old  man. 
"  The  ship  sails  in  less  than  a  week,  and  Marco  is  use 
less,  and  —  " 

"  Tell  me,"  said  Tristan. 

"  It  is  this.  Don  Fernando  —  God  rest  his  soul  —  has 
written  all  the  letters  for  us  since  we  came  from  Spain. 
He  is  gone,  yet  the  letters  must  be  written,  more  than 
ever  they  must  be  written,  for  the  girl  has  the  devil  in 
her,  and  demands  things.  You  remember  the  child, 
Sancha?" 

"  I  remember." 

"  Good !  Gifts  have  gone  to  her  from  Marco  all  these 
years  —  I  myself  sent  them.  Letters  have  gone  for  her 
to  Padre  Juan  or  to  the  abbess  —  I  had  them  written." 

"  All  this  I  know,"  said  Tristan,  "  for  all  of  the  letters 


TRISTAN    THE    RANGER  71 

from  there  were  among  papers  of  Don  Fernando,  and 
Fray  Payo  gave  me  the  task  of  sorting  them." 

"  Praise  to  the  saints  if  you  have  not  destroyed  them ! 
This  is  a  day  of  good  fortune.  You  are  yourself  so  good 
a  scribe  and  scholar  that  you  will  know  every  worthy 
scribe  in  the  city  who  hires  his  pen  and  his  time." 

"  That  is  true,  senor.  Many  of  them,  failing  to  find 
the  El  Dorado  of  dreams,  are  glad  to  keep  accounts,  or 
act  as  scribe,  or  turn  monk  at  the  last ! " 

"  Softly  and  with  care !  Your  careless  speech  may 
earn  for  you  a  trial  of  the  faith  some  dark  day  if  you 
guard  it  not.  Monks  are  vowed  to  God's  service." 

"  And  a  fat  living  here,"  grinned  Tristan. 

"  Had  you  and  Fray  Fernando  so  fat  a  living  when 
you  were  on  that  desert  trail  to  the  north?  " 

"  Let  me  not  remember  that  time  of  the  lost  way  in 
a  land  of  plenty.  We  dug  roots  and  ate  snakes.  But 
Don  Fernando  was  never  a  monastery  man.  To  me  he 
was  ever  the  soldier  who  had  somehow  broken  into  a 
cloister." 

"  That  is  true,  that  is  how  it  was,"  said  Don  Rodrigo, 
and  sat  in  silence  a  space ;  I  started  as  if  to  leave  them, 
for  it  was  always  a  pain  for  me  to  hear  of  Don  Fernando 
in  the  presence  of  Tristan.  Pie  was  guarded  even  while 
he  seemed  careless,  and  our  eyes  ever  avoided  each 
other. 

Don  Rodrigo  put  out  his  hand  to  detain  me. 

"  Stay  you  here,  Juanito,  unless  you  are  needed  else 
where.  You  may  serve  as  help,  you  saw  the  little  spitfire 
later  than  I." 

"  Your  pardon,  sefior,  but  she  is  no  longer  so  small," 
I  said. 


72       THE    HOUSE    OF    THE    DAWN 

"  Her  height  has  kept  pace  with  her  temper,  then?  " 

"  About  that,  senor,"  I  conceded. 

"  You  see,  Tristan,  that  is  what  I  have  to  deal  with  — 
a  temper  of  pepper,  and  the  height  of  a  woman !  I  have 
asked  little  help  of  any  but  Don  Fernando,  and  he  —  " 

"  Senor,  many  of  the  tasks  he  did  have  been  given  to 
me  by  Fray  Payo.  That  I  work  here  at  the  painting  for 
pure  love  of  it,  does  not  mean  that  I  take  no  other 
duties." 

"  I  could  wish  Marco  as  willing.  He  ever  has  some 
errand  of  state  if  I  need  to  talk  sense  to  him  —  and  that 
ship  must  carry  a  letter  to  Spain.  When  I  did  remind 
him  of  it,  he  gave  me  leave  to  write  it ;  schoolmaids,  he 
said,  were  not  to  his  fancy.  She  could  wait  there  safe 
in  the  convent  until  he  went  back;  so  stands  it  with 
Marco.  But  Marco  should  recall  that  the  girl  is  a  little 
Arab  of  temper ;  truly  there  was  the  blood  of  Moresco  in 
that  family.  This  letter  is  not  at  all  '  an  you  will,  your 
excellency ; '  it  is  a  shoulder  stroke,  direct !  '  An  you  do 
not,  there  are  other  men,  also  there  are  cloisters ! '  She 
is  wearied  of  letters  from  priest  to  abbess,  and  with  her 
own  hand  has  she  learned  to  write  —  that  she  may  say 
this." 

"  Life  of  my  soul !  this  grows  amusing.  And  does 
your  rebel  lady  demand  of  you  a  letter  of  love  from 
Marco?" 

"  Ay,  she  does  —  and  if  it  does  not  in  the  first  ship, 
there  are  others  —  comely  gallants  nearer  home  —  and 
there  are  cloisters." 

"  That  ever  Marco  should  drive  a  maid  to  a  cloister 
for  lack  of  love-making !  "  said  Tristan.  "  If  she  were 
this  side  the  water  he  would  not  let  her  go  begging.  I 


TRISTAN    THE    RANGER  73 

had  a  bad  hour  with  him  ere  he  ceased  tossing  roses  or 
sweetmeats  over  the  wall  to  the  child,  Anita.  He  took 
it  ill  at  that  time,  but  seems  again  a  friend.  And  now, 
senor,  to  serve  you,  how  can  I?  " 

"  Read  the  letters,  and  have  reply  made  that  is  courtly, 
and  what  it  should  be.  Save  the  child's  name  if  you 
can.  And  have  replies  sent  to  Marco  in  your  care.  Thus 
the  maid  will  be  content  in  the  thought  that  he  writes 
them,  and  no  harm  will  be  done.  If  you  will  do  this 
and  get  the  letters  to  ship,  it  will  be  all  heavenly  har 
mony  instead  of  cat  scratches.  It  will  not  be  for  long; 
our  intent  is  to  go  back  another  springtime." 

"  Marco  knows?  " 

"  Marco  knows,  and  laughs,  and  says  I  started  it  and 
must  finish  it.  I,  who  have  worked  with  heart  and  care 
to  join  a  marquesa  of  Llorente  y  Rivera  and  De  Ordofio! 
He  is  an  ungrateful  donkey,  and  knows  not  his  own 
good  fortune.  Also,  he  says  she  should  have  faith  as  has 
he,  and  no  letters  would  be  needed.  For  myself,  I  do 
deplore  even  the  thought  of  letters,  and  it  goes  hard  to 
chide  the  lad  for  the  same  natural  feeling.  We  De 
Ordonos  have  never  been  much  with  a  quill." 

"  Faith,  as  he  has !  "  repeated  Tristan.  "  The  maid 
locked  tight  in  a  convent,  and  he  ranging  the  world  for 
pleasure !  Which  recalls  to  me  a  small  matter :  Is  it  not 
by  the  friendship  of  Senor  Don  de  Dasmarinas  that 
Marco  has  lately  been  shown  some  special  preferences?  " 

"  It  may  be  so ;  he  has  said  nothing." 

"  Then  you  say  something,  Don  Rodrigo,  and  save 
troubles  to  come.  Tell  him  to  range  elsewhere  for 
sweethearts  than  so  close  to  forbidden  ground.  I  inter 
fered  in  one  direction,  and  he  would  think  me  turned 


74       THE    HOUSE    OF    THE    DAWN 

spy  if  I  should  speak  of  another.  At  the  very  mildest, 
he  would  take  it  ill." 

"  That  is  true.    What  is  wrong?    Are  you  rivals?  " 

"  Not  at  all,  my  heart  is  at  the  feet  of  Mercedes,  the 
cousin  of  Dona  Perfecta.  She  is  safely  betrothed  to  my 
friend  Ernesto  Galvez  and  is  not  for  me;  but  she  is 
wise  —  that  girl  —  and  sees  things.  Dona  Perfecta  will 
also  be  wise  to  hasten  the  wedding,  lest  Mercedes  see 
too  much.  That  beauteous  Perfecta  is  a  woman  am 
bitious  for  special  place  at  the  palace,  and  uses  all  tools 
to  her  hand.  Also  she  is  a  pretty  cat,  no,  rather  is  she 
a  tigress,  and  likes  pretty  boys  instead  of  kittens  to 
play  with!  " 

"  Marco  would  say  then  that  you  were  safe,"  said  Don 
Rodrigo,  rolling  a  cigarro,  and  watching  the  face  of 
Tristan  to  see  if  he  flushed,  or  paled,  or  lied. 

But  Tristan  only  smiled. 

"  It  is  true,"  he  said,  "  my  beauty  will  not  make  trou 
bles  for  me.  If  I  told  Marco  all  I  could  tell,  we  would 
end  by  fighting,  and  that  would  win  pleasure  for  none 
of  us.  Where  is  the  letter?  " 

"  It  is  here  —  all  three  of  them  —  from  the  abbess,  the 
priest,  and  the  girl,  and  the  last  deserves  better  treat 
ment  than  it  is  getting." 

"  Also,  here  is  Marco  de  Ordono,"  I  warned  them  as 
I  sighted  him  across  the  little  plaza.  "  It  will  be  a  joke 
on  Marco  that  you  help  save  a  wife  for  him  from  the 
cloister." 

"  If  there  is  a  joke,  it  will  be  on  me,  that  I  plan  letters 
of  love  for  a  girl  over  seas  when  I  am  thinking  only  of 
Mercedes  Herrara  here  in  Mexico!" 

Later  I  knew  how  bravely  he  lied  about  that  little 


;frTu 


TRISTAN    THE   RANGER  75 

matter,  though  at  the  time  I  had  a  boy's  sorrow  for  him. 
I  knew  how  it  was  to  adore  a  divinity  at  a  distance. 

Marco  shrugged  and  smiled  when  he  saw  the  creased 
and  crumpled  letters.  Don  Rodrigo  had  evidently  taken 
his  worries  to  bed. 

"  So  you  have  Tristan  in  it  now,"  he  jeered ;  "  but  I 
have  a  better  task  for  him.  Whether  with  good  or  ill 
will,  your  presence  is  entreated  soon  as  may  be  at  the 
house  of  Senor  Don  de  Dasmarinas.  The  fame  of  your 
churchly  paintings  is  abroad;  you  are  asked  again  to 
paint  the  portrait  of  the  loveliest  lady  of  the  land." 

Tristan  looked  at  him  and  smiled. 

"  One  woman  at  a  time,"  he  said ;  "  and  if  her  time 
ever  comes,  it  must  come  second." 

"  Let  him  alone,  Marco,"  said  Don  Rodrigo.  "  He  will 
be  our  salvation  if  you  give  him  a  free  hand.  A  letter 
must  go  on  that  ship  if  you  want  ever  to  join  the  De 
Ordofio  with  the  illustrious  family  of  Llorente  y  Rivera." 

"  Does  she  fancy  we  carry  secretaries  to  the  mines?  " 
growled  Marco. 

"  What  she  fancies  is  not  spelled  out  here,  though  the 
letter  of  Padre  Juan  makes  much  plain.  Here  she  says, 
'  It  is  five  years,  and  I  have  grown  tall.  I  pray  you  con 
vey  to  Don  Marco  that  the  Indian  dolls  he  sends  have 
made  much  merriment  for  the  nuns  here  at  Santa  Maria, 
also  that  I  lately  hung  each  one  of  them  by  the  neck  to 
a  pomegranate  tree,  and  if  Padre  Juan  has  a  mind  to  tell 
you  what  I  said  of  them  he  is  free  to  write  it  in  this 
letter,  for  I  am  making  sanbenitos  for  each  one,  and  the 
little  pagans  will  all  go  into  the  fire  on  some  fine  day ! ' ' 

"  The  little  Arab  devil!  "  said  Marco.  "  She  was  ten 
when  we  came  from  Spain,  was  she  not?  " 


76       THE    HOUSE    OF    THE    DAWN 

"  Twelve,"  said  Don  Rodrigo,  "  and  should  she  ever 
hear  you  call  her  '  Arab '  there  would  be  troubles 
enough.  That  Moresco  blood  was  proud  as  any  in  Cas 
tile  ;  it  was  used  to  ruling  in  other  days.  And  this  word 
of  hers  is  more  than  the  whim  of  a  child.  Look  to  it, 
Marco,  that  you  lose  not  a  pearl  you  would  gladly 
wear !  " 

"  In  a  year  we  will  go  back,  weighted  with  treasure  — 
is  that  not  good  reason  enough  for  delay?  How  can  a 
man  make  love  to  a  girl  in  far  Spain  when  there  are  as 
pretty,  here  to  one's  hand?" 

"  There  needs  no  love-making ;  the  child  has  never 
had  it,  and  cannot  miss  it.  But  letters  of  your  own 
writing  she  does  demand." 

"  I  will  marry,  as  I  will  die,  when  my  time  comes," 
said  Marco  sulkily,  "  but  to  wear  out  my  brain  with 
letters  to  a  little  vixen  like  that  —  I  can't  and  won't ! 
Also  my  hand  is  lame,  even  if  I  would  —  also  you  can 
get  another  priest  to  write,  for  after  all  she  has  never 
seen  writing  of  mine.  Who  is  to  tell  her  the  difference?  " 

He  looked  at  me  as  though  I  might  not  be  trusted,  but 
Don  Rodrigo  spoke  for  me. 

"  We  can  trust  Juanito.  He  is  too  fond  of  Sancha  not 
to  want  her  happy  and  safe  wedded." 

"  If  it  makes  her  happy,"  I  said,  and  had  doubts. 

"  How  else  will  it  be  if  only  she  is  quiet  and  tame  for 
a  little  longer?  " 

"  A  clerkly  wife  is  the  last  thing  I  should  have  asked 
the  saints  for,"  growled  Marco,  looking  at  the  letters, 
and  throwing  them  back  on  the  table.  "  Why  could  she 
not  be  content  with  trinkets,  as  would  any  other  maid?  " 

"  Because  there  is  not  like  her  any  other  maid  any- 


TRISTAN    THE    RANGER  77 

where  in  all  the  rest  of  the  world !  "  I  declared.  "  She 
has  a  brain  to  think  with,  and  your  trinkets  have  been  a 
jest  to  her  since  ever  you  came  away ;  also  your  ladies 
of  Mexico  are  tinsel  beside  her  gold,  and  no  maid  of  the 
house  of  Llorente  y  Rivera  need  go  pleading  for  a  hus 
band,  Senor  de  Ordofio.  She  is  loyal,  but  she  has  no 
love  for  you,  she  only  thinks  she  loves  the  memory  of 
you." 

How  I  said  it  —  to  thrust  my  tongue  into  their  man's 
discourse  —  I  could  not  tell.  Never  before  had  I  pre 
sumed  before  my  elders,  but  my  blood  was  hot  with 
anger  at  his  easy  confidence. 

Tristan  put  his  hand  on  my  own  as  if  he  feared  my 
effrontery  might  make  trouble,  but  Marco  was  so  amazed 
he  had  no  time  to  be  angry.  And  Don  Rodrigo  watched 
me  with  a  curious  look. 

"  It  is  the  same  blood,  Marco,  safe  and  loyal,  yet  prone 
to  wild  doings  in  the  older  days.  You  had  best  take 
that  little  warning,  for  wild  blood  may  lead  your  maid  to 
strange  decisions  —  there  is  always  a  cloister  —  and  she 
mentions  that  there  are  also  men  in  Spain !  " 

"  I  have  thought  over  the  accursed  matter  until  I  am 
past  thinking,"  said  Marco,  suddenly  truculent.  "  But 
you  and  Tristan  are  not  the  ones  to  desert  a  comrade  in 
trouble.  I  would  as  soon  hope  to  preach  a  sermon  as 
write  a  letter,  while  this  escriblente  can  write  easily  as 
he  can  eat.  Come,  Tristan,  refresh  yourself  with  a  cup 
to  give  you  heart,  and  help  a  comrade.  Get  a  letter 
written  for  me  before  the  ship  sails." 

"  I'll  write  for  myself,"  threatened  Tristan,  "  and  steal 
your  maid  and  her  fortune,  and  the  latter,  as  I  see  it, 
would  be  your  greater  loss !  " 


_ 


78       THE    HOUSE    OF   THE    DAWN 

"  Lads,  lads,  this  thing  is  no  jest,  but  a  serious  matter. 
The  fractious  jade  says  plainly  there  are  gallants  in 
Seville  who  are  not  too  busy  to  woo,  also  that  she  has 
misgivings  that  the  convent  life  may  be  her  true  voca 
tion.  If  no  letter  goes  to  her  by  next  ship,  I  wash  my 
hands  of  you  both,  dolts  that  you  are." 

There  was  laughter  among  us  at  Don  Rodrigo  fuming 
over  a  letter  of  love,  and  Tristan,  noting  that  his  heart 
was  in  it,  spoke  up. 

"  The  letter  shall  go,  senor,  if  it  will  give  you  content. 
Marco  must  write  it,  else  you  and  I  will  do  it,  and  shame 
him!" 

"  Done !  "  said  Don  Rodrigo,  eager  as  a  boy.  "  We 
will  toss  dice  to  decide  which  does  the  task,  though  if 
chance  be  that  Marco  writes  the  letter  he  will  drive  the 
maid  to  a  nunnery  rather  than  wed  anyone  of  his  name 
or  family.  Even  the  reckonings  at  the  mine  he  could 
not  keep  in  a  way  to  be  deciphered." 

So,  with  a  new  jug  of  wine  to  give  them  courage,  the 
dice  were  thrown,  first  by  Don  Rodrigo,  who  threw 
seven,  then  by  Marco,  who  sang  in  glee  and  did  a  caper 
when  he  threw  but  six.  And  Tristan  sat  silent  when 
the  fates,  or  the  saints,  sent  double  six  to  his  hand  that 
he  write  letters  to  the  wilful  maid  across  the  sea. 

There  was  much  rejoicing  on  the  part  of  Don  Rodrigo 
over  this,  for  he,  in  all  honesty,  feared  that  a  letter  from 
Marco  would  hurt  his  suit  more  than  help  it,  and  Tristan, 
once  his  word  was  pledged,  would  carry  it  through 
bravely. 

Thus  it  began  —  the  jest  in  the  shade  of  the  monastery 
wall  in  Mexico.  For  myself,  I  think  the  guardian  angels 
of  all  three  were  taking  a  siesta  that  day. 


1..1  i  i£>  Ifl.'-;  LJ~:/i±J  L±3  ''"  '.'.  [  I/.  -•       "  '•      '     . 

TRISTAN   THE   RANGER  79 

Once  it  was  settled,  Marco  was  gay  as  a  lark,  willing 
to  discuss  the  letter  and  advise  regarding  it,  but  Tristan 
had  the  better  of  him  there. 

"  You  will  play  your  hand,  or  you  will  keep  out  of  the 
game,"  he  directed.  "  Also  the  letters  must  come  to 
my  hand." 

"That  is  as  it  should  be,"  and  Don  Rodrigo  passed 
over  the  letters.  "  This  donkey  —  this  burro  —  has  sent 
her  only  strings  of  beads  until  she  is  all  but  lost  to  us. 
Now,  the  saints  willing,  all  will  go  merrily  and  smooth 
till  we  sail  home  for  the  wedding,  with  treasure  chests 
well  filled." 

"  And  you,  Tristan,  shall  be  my  second,  and  salute  the 
bride,"  offered  Marco  in  high  good  spirits. 

"  Take  him  away  ere  I  do  him  harm,"  said  Tristan  to 
Don  Rodrigo,  "  and  if  he  has  not  made  his  daily  call  on 
the  family  of  De  Dasmarinas,  this  is  the  hour." 

"  Family?  but  there  is  no  family  but  Dona  Perfecta, 
and  —  " 

"  She  is  quite  enough  in  herself,"  commented  Tristan 
unfolding  the  letters,  and  not  even  looking  up  to  see  the 
red  flush  in  the  face  of  Marco.  "  Get  you  gone  and  find 
a  messenger  to  bear  the  letter  to  the  ship  captain.  If  I 
am  to  attend  to  your  affairs  of  love,  give  me,  at  least, 
privacy." 

So  they  left  him,  Marco  going  without  further  words 
for  a  messenger,  and  Don  Rodrigo  hobbling  in  to  his 
couch.  When  I  returned  from  waiting  upon  him,  Tris 
tan  still  sat  by  the  table  with  the  unfolded  letter  in  his 
hand. 

"  Strange  it  is  that  the  pearls  of  life  sink  often  to  low 
usage,"  he  said,  when  I  sat  myself  quiet  beside  him; 


8o       THE    HOUSE    OF    THE    DAWN 

"  and  strange  that  his  heart  is  not  touched  by  that  which 
is  good  in  this." 

"  Is  it  truly  done  by  herself?  "  I  asked,  for  while  she 
had  boasted  of  her  new  accomplishment,  I  had  seen  none 
of  it. 

"  It  truly  is  —  and  it  is  a  shame  to  deceive  so  fair  a 
soul  even  though  I  made  promise.  His  name,  at  least, 
I  will  not  sign.  I  will  find  some  lie  to  cover  that.  Who 
could  trick  a  child  heart  such  as  shows  itself  here?  God ! 
how  strangely  the  pearls  are  portioned !  " 

This  was  a  new  turn,  after  the  jests,  and  the  wine, 
and  the  dice,  and  I  knew  not  whether  to  take  myself 
away,  or  how  to  speak. 

"  You  were  right,  Juanito,"  he  said  at  last,  "  the  child 
but  tries  to  be  loyal  to  a  dream  of  childhood.  Hear  to 
this." 

Then  he  read  me  the  letter  Marco  had  laughed  at. 

To  Don  Marcos  de  Ordono  of  Mexico, 

Excellency: 

This  will  be  the  first  of  letters  writ  by  my  hand.  You  did 
not  know  I  write.  I  have  learned  for  the  reason  I  am  weary 
of  priest  letters.  If  you  are  to  be  my  husband,  it  is  right  you 
should  have  my  first  letter.  I  look  at  the  stars  and  wonder  if 
the  same  ones  shine  where  you  are  now,  and  I  have  sent  mes 
sages  some  days  with  the  white  butterflies,  and  wished  the 
messages  had  wings,  that  they  go  to  you.  My  own  saint  is 
the  beautiful  one  of  the  white  bees  who  is  called  the  Saint 
of  the  Impossible;  not  yet  is  she  made  a  saint  by  the  church,  but 
in  our  hearts  she  is  one.  I  am  not  a  saint  or  I  could  go  through 
the  sea  to  where  you  are,  as  did  she  through  walls  of  stone 
for  holiness.  But  the  mother  abbess  says  a  maid  must  abide 
at  home  and  wait  and  make  prayers,  thinking  not  of  sea  jour 
neys.  Yet  when  the  stars  go  over  to  you  in  the  west  I  do  think 
of  it;  and  also  I  make  prayers  for  you  in  your  far  travels. 


TRISTAN   THE   RANGER  81 

It  is  not  gay  to  have  a  life  always  in  a  convent,  though  that 
thought  may  not  have  come  to  you.  This  I  have  told  Padre 
Juan  to  write  for  me;  but  no  more  priest  letters  will  I  send  — 
nor  will  I  read.  The  letters  are  most  fine,  but  the  only  letters 
I  want  are  from  him  I  am  to  marry.  I  cannot  marry  the  priest, 
also  he  would  not  want  me.  Padre  Juan  tells  me  I  am  rebel 
lious,  but  I  think  it  is  not  that.  I  but  ask  to  know  the  true 
thought  of  the  man  I  may  wed. 

Therefore  my  own  hand  writes,  and  I  am, 

Your  friend  in  graciousness, 
Encarnacian  Maria  Emanuella  de  Llorente  y  Rivera. 

"  Proud  little  lady  —  lonely,  though  exalted !  "  said 
Tristan.  "  Think  you  she  would  pen  this  if  she  knew 
the  course  he  runs  in  Mexico?  " 

"  You  will  not  tell  her?  "  I  asked,  recalling  how  Don 
Rodrigo  had  said  that  ranging  youths  often  made  the 
best  of  husbands  after  the  settling  down  had  come. 

"  No,  that  I  could  not  do,  but  the  child  shall  no  longer 
be  lonely.  It  is  as  a  work  sent  because  my  own  thoughts 
are  not  good  company.  In  this  I  may  forget,  for  a 
little  while." 

I  did  not  ask  what  his  own  sorrows  were ;  I  had  grown 
fearful  of  knowing  too  much. 

"  You  will  keep  this  secret?  "  he  asked. 

"  Yes,  if  it  is  the  only  way  for  her  happiness,"  I  said ; 
for,  of  course,  I  believed  that  when  she  saw  Marco  she 
would  be  in  love  as  most  maids  were,  and  the  letters 
would  be  forgotten  —  no  matter  who  did  the  writing 
of  them. 

"You  promise?"  he  insisted.  "For  I  know  she  is 
dear  to  you  as  a  sister." 

"  That  is  true.  But  I  give  my  word.  When  you,  your 
self,  tell  her,  I  may ;  but  not  before." 


82       THE    HOUSE    OF   THE    DAWN 

"  When  I  tell  her  —  ha !  "  and  he  had  a  bitter  smile. 
"  It  is  so  likely  that  I,  of  the  name  of  sorrow,  should  tell 
a  Marquesa  de  Llorente  y  Rivera  that  I  had  dared  to 
write  to  her  letters  from  a  lover !  Yet  that  is  my  task  — 
take  yourself  away  while  I  prepare  my  soul." 

I  did  so,  looking  back  at  him  as  he  sat,  chin  on  hand, 
with  the  jug,  and  the  wine  cups,  and  the  open  letters  on 
the  table. 

It  did  not  seem  to  me  so  fitting  an  altar  for  the  prep 
aration  of  a  soul,  and  I  had  my  own  doubt  of  a  letter  to 
our  Sancha  if  sent  from  such  a  place,  yet  the  very  place 
may  have  brought  its  own  help,  for  the  letter  was  sent, 
and  in  after  days  my  own  eyes  saw  it,  and  this  is  it : 

To  the  Lady  of  the  White  Butterflies: 

It  did  not  come  to  my  mind  that  you,  exalted  on  the  convent 
hill,  could  wish  for  letters  from  one  far  below.  But  when  I 
have  the  word  of  your  hand,  my  thoughts  go  over  seas  to  you 
more  swift  than  any  letter  made  by  man. 

I  do  see  the  white  butterflies  here,  great  ones  with  wide  wings 
and  velvet  soft  bodies,  but  it  was  the  reading  of  your  letter  by 
which  I  was  able  to  know  the  message  they  strive  to  give  me. 
They  will  never  be  far  from  me  now,  and  if  I  were  a  knight  of 
old  bearing  shield,  the  butterfly  of  white  should  be  marked 
on  it.  If  I  were  indeed  the  knight  of  an  older  day  I  might  plead 
also  for  a  worn  glove.  Know  you  a  fair  and  gracious  maid  of 
the  convent  hill  who  would  be  kind  in  that? 

The  land  here  seems  in  some  things  like  a  country  of  enchant 
ment  —  it  is  so  very,  very  old,  and  had  been  sleeping  so  many 
ages  when  the  conquerors  came  in  with  rude  awakenings.  This 
is  not  what  is  often  told,  but  it  is  truth,  and  much  evidence  of 
the  truth  was  swept  away  or  burned  by  Cortez,  and  by  others 
after  Cortez. 

If  you  were  here  you  would  learn  new  things  of  the  stars,  for 
they  come  close  to  earth  in  this  high  air.  Also  the  pagans  had 
their  own  love  and  worship  of  them.  They  call  the  moon 


TRISTAN    THE    RANGER  83 

"  mother,"  and  greet  her  with  gifts  of  grain  meal  and  flowers 
of  the  night,  tossed  upwards.  Their  sanctuaries  were  many  on 
the  high  places,  and  their  shrines  in  the  "  houses  of  the  dawn  " 
were  dear  as  are  your  altars  in  old  Spain.  The  white  butterfly 
is  to  them  the  symbol  of  the  spirit  of  life,  and  their  other  sym 
bols  are  many. 

Do  you  ever  look  at  the  still  star  of  the  north,  around  which 
others  circle?  That  star  is  as  a  god  to  them  for  the  reason 
that  it  is  enthroned  steadily.  Do  you  ever  see  that  Cassiopeia 
has  the  wings  of  a  great  eagle,  and  the  curve  of  the  Dipper  is 
like  a  serpent  half  twisted  in  coil?  Ever  these  two  change 
places  in  the  sky.  When  the  eagle  is  high  in  the  sky  the  serpent 
is  under  the  throne  of  Polaris,  and  again  the  eagle  circles  low, 
and  the  serpent  curves  above.  Thus  in  their  pictures  these 
pagans  show  this  endless  battle  of  sky  things  and  earth 
things,  good  and  evil,  light  and  darkness,  and  the  enthroned 
star,  Polaris,  holds  the  balance.  Their  standards  bore  the  sym 
bols  of  this  meaning.  In  desert  nights  these  thoughts,  held 
sacred  by  them,  are  told  at  times,  little  by  little,  to  a  friend, 
and  they  make  one  see  how  God  prepared  man  by  all  these 
wonders  for  the  revelation  of  the  greater  Wonder! 

I  write  of  the  stars  because  you  ask  of  them,  and  I  see  your 
own  constellation  in  the  sky  as  I  write.  I  saw  you  once  on  the 
convent  hill  above  the  olive  trees,  standing  clear  against  the 
sky,  with  the  white  doves  about  you.  You  were  Virgo  to  me, 
white  and  serene,  I  have  looked  at  Virgo  many  times  since  then 
from  the  wild  corners  of  Mexico,  and  my  thoughts  have  gone  to 
you  —  little  maid  on  the  hill! 

Be  lonely  no  more,  but  look  at  the  stars  at  night.  Under  the 
feet  of  Virgo  stretches  the  great  Hydra,  with  the  Solitary  One, 
Alphard,  beating  there  its  steady  warmth  as  the  heart  of  it.  I 
am  thus  at  your  feet,  White  Virgo!  At  your  feet  I  will  be  all 
the  days  I  have  to  live,  and  here  I  write,  that  you  may  know  it, 
the  name  of 

Alphard. 


CHAPTER  VII 
THE  AMUSEMENTS  OF  DONA  PERFECTA 

AFTER  the  ship  sailed  away  with  that  letter, 
decided  by  the  dice,  Tristan  kept  me  closer  to 
him  than  before,  and  the  barrier  was  down  re 
garding  Sancha.    Never  before  had  he  spoken 
of  her,  but  it  was,  I  think,  as  he  said  —  to  talk  of  places 
or   people   over   seas  took  his  thoughts   from   matters 
troubling  him,  and  they  were  many. 

The  plans  of  Fray  Payo  were  made,  and  we  were  both 
given  choice  of  service  in  his  train.  But  I  looked  at 
Tristan,  and  his  decision  was  to  stay.  Don  Rodrigo, 
despite  his  good  days,  was  not  well  enough  for  a  journey, 
and  fretted  his  soul  over  the  mining  matters  until  twice 
Tristan  rode  across  the  wilderness  to  set  things  right 
for  him,  and  I  —  an  adventurer  of  the  wilds  at  last  — 
rode  with  him. 

But  I  cared  not  much  for  the  living  at  the  camps  where 
meat  was  scarce,  and  little  else  plenty  but  the  rich  silver 
in  the  ore.  My  own  money  had  gone  into  shares  there, 
and  slaves  to  work  with,  but  the  camp  life  was  tame, 
and  I  was  glad  to  ride  back. 

With  the  ship  of  Fray  Payo  went  another  letter  to 
Sancha,  and  then  Tristan  settled  down  to  make  a  finish 
of  the  painting,  and  complete  some  tasks  of  records  left 
by  the  departing  viceroy. 

84 


AMUSEMENTS   OF  PERFECTA     85 

There  was  great  change  of  ceremony  and  state  when 
the  new  viceroy  went  in,  but  it  did  not  lessen  the  im 
portance  of  the  De  Dasmarinas.  The  office  of  secretary 
bestowed  upon  her  husband  by  the  new  viceroy,  Don 
Tomas,  Conde  de  Paredes,  gave  Dona  Perfecta  oppor 
tunities  to  show  favor  to  whom  she  chose,  and  this  time 
it  was  not  Marco  who  was  sent  with  the  message ;  she 
came  herself  to  visit  the  chapel,  and  Tristan,  in  a  tat 
tered  old  monk's  gown  smeared  with  paint,  could  do  no 
less  than  bow  when  the  Fray  Bernardino  brought  her 
in  to  see  the  holy  saints  all  in  a  row,  on  either  side 
the  altar. 

"  Is  it  true,  Don  Tristan,  you  have  grown  so  devout 
that  you  paint  only  heavenly  things  these  days  ?  "  she 
asked,  and  watched  him  approvingly  with  those  brown 
slumberous  eyes  of  hers.  No  one  would  call  Tristan 
handsome,  as  was  Marco,  yet  heads  did  turn  to  look 
after  him,  and  his  strong  dark  face  made  him  remem 
bered. 

"  I  dare  not  say  they  are  of  heaven,"  he  answered ; 
"  no  poor  worker  of  earth  may  hope  for  that." 

"  You  might  hope  for  more  than  you  know,"  she  said 
softly,  as  Fray  Bernardino  shuffled  away  to  send  some 
one  with  wine  and  sweets  to  the  visitor.  "  The  message 
that  I  sent  with  Don  Marco  should  have  told  you  that." 

"  Marco  is  scarce  a  safe  messenger,  especially  for 
exalted  ladies,  Excellencia,"  and  when  Tristan  said  it 
he  looked  at  her  very  hard,  and  with  no  more  of  courtesy 
than  he  would  bestow  on  a  dealer  who  offered  wares  he 
disdained. 

"  Send  that  boy  away,"  she  said.  "  How  is  it  you  are 
never  alone,  whether  in  the  palace,  or  monk's  cell?  " 


86       THE    HOUSE    OF    THE    DAWN 

"  It  is,  perhaps,  that  I  have  found  a  comrade." 

"  Send  him  away,"  she  said  again,  and  this  time  she 
was  close  beside  him,  looking  up  to  his  face. 

"  Juanito,  the  Dona  Perfecta  would  have  you  see 
that  her  carriage  is  waiting  at  the  portal,"  said  Tristan, 
and  I  saw  him  step  back  as  she  caught  at  his  arm. 

"  You  shall  not !  "  she  said.  "  Listen  —  it  is  a  year 
since  you  said " 

"  I  was  a  boy  a  year  ago,  senora ;  also  I  was  proud  that 
you  desired  the  portrait.  But  in  a  year  one  learns " 

"  What  did  you  learn  that  sent  you  away  —  what?  " 

"  Only  that  my  art  is  not  fine  enough  for  your  face, 
Excellencia,"  he  said,  and  I  was  so  eaten  up  with  curios 
ity  that  I  peered  back  and  saw  the  ugly  smile  on  his 
face. 

"  It  is  not  that  —  I  know  it !  "  she  insisted,  and  again 
she  caught  his  arm.  "  What  did  that  girl  tell  you  — 
Mercedes?  It  will  be  well  the  day  she  is  safe  married, 
and  no  time  left  to  play  spy !  " 

"  I  have  no  memory  of  anything  told  me,"  he  said 
coldly.  "  Is  his  excellency,  your  husband,  Don  Eduardo, 
visiting  the  monastery  today?  " 

"  You  know  he  is  not.  Listen  —  things  are  changed, 
Tristan.  I  have  power  now  —  and " 

"  So  it  is  said,  Excellencia,"  and  his  words  were  like 
ice,  and  again  the  ugly  smile  was  there. 

"  Who  dares  say  it?  I  can  make  them  pay  if  I  choose. 
We  have  not  now  a  viceroy  who  is  a  saint." 

"  So  it  is  said,  Excellencia,"  and  again  he  smiled. 

"  Ah !  I  could  —  could  break  my  fan  in  your  face !  " 

"  And  then,  Excellencia?  " 

"  Then  weep  because  I  had  done  it,"  she  whispered, 


AMUSEMENTS   OF  PERFECTA     87 

and  again  went  close  to  him.    "  Tristan,  why  did  you 
steal  away  to  the  Indian  deserts,  and  why " 

"  The  Indian  Desert  is  a  good  safe  place  for  weak 
mortals  afraid  of  temptations,  senora." 

"  Afraid !  You?  "  and  she  laughed.  "  You  are  no  more 
afraid  than  you  are  weak.  You  are  only  devil-possessed 
not  to  grant  me  that  which  I  desire." 

"  There  are  better  painters  of  portraits  than  I,  senora." 

"  But  if  I  think  not?  If  I  have  both  the  viceroy  and 
Don  Eduardo  eager  to  please  me  and  give  you  a  good 
price?  Can  you  not  see  it  is  favor  from  the  palace  I 
bring  to  you?  What  more  can  I  do?  " 

"  Senora,  you  do  more  than  I  may  find  thanks  for." 

"  It  is  not  thanks  for  which  I  am  here  —  it  is  that  I 
shall  not  go  out  the  portal  till  you  promise.  The  por 
trait  I  must  have.  I  will  see  that  the  viceroy  himself 
asks  for  it  if  I  fail." 

Tristan  looked  at  her  in  thought  —  though  many  a 
man  would  lose  every  sane  thought  at  sight  of  her.  Per 
haps  he  saw  the  contest  would  be  endless,  and  I  couk 
plainly  discern  that  the  favor  shown  Tristan  by  her 
was  not  a  new  thing.  He  could  have  first  place,  even 
while  he  jeered  at  Marco  for  coveting  it. 

"  I  will  not  put  his  Excellency  to  the  trouble  of  a 
request,"  he  said.  "  If  my  poor  talent  is  of  service,  I 
will,  of  course,  endeavor  to  make  of  you  a  portrait." 

"  Ah ! "  and  she  was  a  sparkle  of  gladness  in  her  de 
light.  "  And  you  will  come  to  the  palace  to  paint,  and 
doff  that  monk's  robe,  and  be  human  once  more?" 

"  I  shall  be  human  enough  for  the  task." 

"  Task !  You  speak  as  if  I  set  you  a  penance  for  sins. 
Yet  look  you,  Tristan,  you  have  promised,  and  I  shall 


88       THE    HOUSE    OF   THE    DAWN 

give  you  else  to  think  of  than  your  pale  saints  on  the 
wall.  You  will  forget  them  all." 

"  All  but  one  —  perhaps." 

"  Which  one?  "  she  demanded,  and  turned  to  look  at 
those  of  the  chancel. 

"  The  one  I  have  not  dared  to  paint,"  he  said. 

"Where  is  she?" 

He  smiled,  and  reached  up,  catching  at  a  sunbeam 
making  clear  its  bar  of  light  against  a  shadow. 

"  It  is  that,  senora,  the  unattainable." 

"  Tah !  "  and  she  laughed  in  derision,  "  only  that !  But 
for  these  drawings  —  did  you  get  their  faces  from  sun 
beams  alone?  " 

"  Not  all.  I  have  a  little  foster  sister  who  is  a  pretty 
maid,  and  she  has  sat  still  as  a  mouse,  many  times,  that 
I  might  make  drawings  of  her  head  or  eyes." 

"  It  would  please  me  to  see  this  maid.  I  bid  you  bring 
her  to  me  at  the  palace." 

"  The  mother  must  say  as  to  that ;  and  I  think  she 
will  say  no." 

"  What?  Do  places  go  begging  in  the  palace  of  the 
viceroy?"  she  said  smilingly.  "We  will  make  her 
future  if  she  is  fair.  Did  I  not  tell  you  I  would  have 
favors  to  confer  ?  " 

"  Favors  of  the  palace  are  dangerous  sometimes  to  us 
common  people  of  the  cots." 

But  at  that  she  laughed  again,  and  looked  at  him. 

"  You  of  the  people  of  the  cots !  You  look  royal  enough 
for  a  throne,  though  your  name  tells  me  nothing.  Tris 
tan,  who  are  you?" 

"  An  adventurer  whose  name  is  Tristan  —  which 
means  sorrow.  Find  a  gayer  painter,  Dona  Perfecta." 


AMUSEMENTS    OF   PERFECTA     89 

"  I  will  have  only  you.  There  will  be  long  hours  of 
the  work,  and  you  will  tell  me  the  things  of  the  far 
deserts  you  love  more  than  women." 

Then  Fray  Bernardino  came  in  with  the  prior  and  re 
freshments,  and  Tristan  got  away  with  what  civility  he 
could.  Dona  Perfecta  talked  with  the  prior  a  long  time 
while  her  horses  fretted  beyond  the  portal.  If  there 
were  any  questions  she  failed  to  ask  concerning  Tristan 
and  the  family  of  his  foster  mother,  Luiza  Gomez,  they 
were  few  indeed,  and  at  last  she  swept  away,  leaving 
the  impression  that  she  meant  to  give  patronage  to  all 
of  them,  also  to  send  some  special  gifts  to  the  monastery 
of  San  Carlos  for  the  pleasure  of  her  visit.  The  prior 
accompanied  her  to  the  carriage,  well  satisfied  that  he 
had  gained  the  favor  of  the  new  rule  in  Mexico. 

It  was  not  a  matter  of  great  surprise  to  me  to  learn 
later  that  Dona  Perfecta  had  sent  for  Luiza,  who  was 
vastly  flattered  at  preference  shown  Mateo,  who  was 
given  place  as  guard  at  the  palace,  while  Anita  was 
offered  chance  to  learn  embroideries  and  other  fine 
handicraft,  and  have  training  beyond  the  hope  of  a 
pretty  paisana,  which  she,  in  truth,  was. 

The  rage  of  Mateo  and  the  dismay  of  Luiza  were  great 
when  Tristan  broke  in  on  the  pretty  plan  with  some 
oaths  a  Christian  could  not  approve. 

"  Have  I  fought  and  made  threats  to  keep  her  out  of 
dangerous  influences,  only  to  have  you  toss  her  into  hell 
to  hold  patronage  for  Mateo?  "  he  asked. 

"  But  her  excellency,  the  Dona  Perfecta  —  " 

"  Ay  —  yes,  I  know  all  of  that !  "  he  assented,  but  he 
could  not  say  that  her  excellency  had  but  a  whim  to 
learn  if  Anita  were  the  reason  her  own  enchantments 


go       THE    HOUSE    OF    THE    DAWN 

had  failed!  He  knew  it,  and  I  knew  it,  but  the  good 
Luiza  would  have  thought  me  mad  had  I  spoke  it.  Tris 
tan  with  his  somber  eyes  and  monkish  learning  was  not 
thought  of  as  a  gallant,  though  it  is  true  that  when  he 
rode  down  the  street,  heads  turned  to  look  at  him,  and 
questions  were  asked  by  strangers. 

Like  Dona  Perfecta,  I  had  often  in  my  heart  the  query 
—  "  Tristan,  who  are  you?  " 

Mateo  was  more  than  a  little  surly,  and  poor  Luiza 
was  in  despair  between  the  two  of  them,  and  out  of  the 
despair  came  an  idea. 

"  Listen,  Don  Tristan,"  she  begged.  "  We  all  know 
you  are  right  in  your  thoughts,  and  always  wise,  and 
with  gracious  care  for  Anita,  but  remember  your  warn 
ing  against  the  advances  of  Don  Marco.  You  told  her 
he  had  more  sweethearts  than  fingers  to  his  hands  and 
that  his  thoughts  are  all  for  the  people  exalted  and  im 
portant.  Tristan,  she  is  a  good  child,  and  she  loves  you 
as  a  sister,  but  in  her  heart  she  does  not  believe  one 
thing  you  said,  from  the  smallest  to  the  greatest.  The 
heart  of  the  child  is  so  full  of  the  thought  of  him  that 
he  is  to  her  like  an  angel  of  God  on  the  throne.  It  will 
always  be  like  that  unless  we  make  her  see.  How  can 
I,  when  she  goes  not  away  from  our  door  but  to  con 
fession  or  mass?  But  at  the  palace  she  will  see  with 
her  own  eyes.  So  I  think  the  saints  have  sent  us  this 
chance  to  make  her  sensible,  for  she  is  a  pious  child,  but 
overmuch  in  love  for  her  own  good." 

Luiza  talked  it  all  over  with  me  many  times  after 
wards,  and  told  how,  little  by  little,  Tristan  gave  way, 
though  he  said  at  the  last,  "  Then  you  leave  me  nothing 
but  to  keep  my  word." 


AMUSEMENTS   OF  PERFECTA     gi 

"  Tristan,  your  word  was  to  deal  him  death  if  he  did 
wrong  to  her,  but  that  he  would  not  do,  and  that  you 
could  not  do." 

"  Then  tell  Anita,  that  I  may  not  be  called  to,"  he  said. 
"  In  all  things  I  am  loyal  to  the  De  Ordono  except  where 
two  maids  are  in  question." 

"Two,  Don  Tristan!" 

"  Two,  and  Anita  is  one  of  them.  Give  her  warning. 
She  may  guard  him  by  guarding  herself  in  the  midst  of 
all  that  tinsel." 

So,  very  quietly,  as  if  there  were  no  gallants  ready 
to  war  for  her,  pretty  Anita  went  with  Mateo  to  the 
palace  one  morning,  and  there  was  passed  from  guard  to 
lackey  until  the  breakfast  room  was  reached,  and  Mer 
cedes  Herrara  looked  her  over,  and  took  her  in  charge. 

"  Though  you  are  too  fine  of  grain  to  easily  find  tasks 
for,"  she  observed,  "  and  I  wonder  much  why  the  senora 
has  called  you  here." 

But  when  Tristan  came  for  the  first  drawing,  a  light 
task  had  been  found  for  her,  and  she  wore  a  dress  of 
white,  and  drew  the  threads  for  an  altar  cloth  to  be 
embroidered  by  Dona  Perfecta. 

"  It  will  be  given  to  the  good  prior  in  memory  of  the 
visit  to  the  saints,"  she  said,  looking  at  Tristan  with  a 
little  crooked  smile.  "  N'ow  that  I  have  one  of  your 
angels  before  my  eyes  in  life,  I  see  how  good  the  like 
ness  was  made." 

"  Yes,  Anita  sits  very  still,  and  was  good  to  copy 
from,"  said  Tristan. 

He  confessed  later  that  he  felt  ashamed  of  his  fears 
over  Anita  when  he  found  her  thus  among  the  women, 
petted,  and  talked  to,  yet  not  unduly.  No  men  were 


92       THE    HOUSE    OF   THE    DAWN 

present,  and  Dona  Mercedes  had  a  kindly  notice  of  the 
girl. 

Dona  Perfecta  watched  carefully  the  first  meeting  of 
Tristan  and  Anita  there,  and  then  turned  radiant,  and 
was  graciousness  itself  to  everyone,  even  to  me,  whom 
she  had  sent  out  of  the  chancel  that  she  might  vent  her 
humor  on  him! 

And  having  seen  that  Anita  was  nothing  to  Tristan 
but  a  kindly  charge,  it  did  not  enter  the  thoughts  of 
Dona  Perfecta  that  the  quiet  maid  could  ever  aspire  to 
the  very  handsomest  gallant  in  her  own  following! 

The  beginning  of  the  picture  making,  with  all  the 
group  about  her,  gave  me  distrust  of  Tristan's  judg 
ment.  Why  hold  out  so  stubbornly  against  the  favor 
other  painters  envied  him?  I  found  myself  deciding 
that  he  had  read  monkish  books  and  lived  with  old 
thoughts  until  his  views  of  life  were  curious. 

When  I  was  there  Marco  never  but  once  entered  the 
room,  and  then  with  a  brief  message  from  Senor  de 
Dasmarinas.  He  gave  Tristan  a  playful  thrust  or  two 
because  at  last  he  had  been  chained  and  dragged  from 
monastery  walls,  and  then,  with  a  gay  salute  to  Dona 
Perfecta  and  a  teasing  word  to  Dona  Mercedes,  he  took 
himself  away.  If  he  even  glanced  at  Anita  it  was  as  if 
he  had  noted  a  pretty  bit  of  furniture,  and  the  ladies 
certainly  gave  no  note  to  her  flushed  cheek  and  shy  eyes. 
His  familiarity  with  palace  ways  and  people  certainly 
appeared  like  a  high  barrier  between  them,  and  though 
she  might  admire  him  more  than  ever  at  a  distance,  she 
must  plainly  see  that  her  world  of  life  must  ever  be 
far  below  the  ladies  who  smiled  on  him  there.  To  me 
it  seemed  that  the  reasoning  of  Luiza  had  sense. 


AMUSEMENTS   OF  PERFECTA     93 

After  the  second  day,  Dona  Periecta  found  useful  task 
for  her  in  teaching  Indio  maids  the  linen  work,  and 
under  Dona  Mercedes  there  was  a  gay  group  of  the 
young  girls  in  the  ramada  intent  on  spacing  and  stitches. 
I  passed  them,  and  spoke.  Later  I  learned  that  Don 
Eduardo  had  made  a  week's  journey  to  Michoacan,  and 
that  Dona  Perfecta  had  sent  for  Tristan  that  the  paint 
ing  of  the  picture  might  be  continued  without  delay  in 
the  sala. 

It  is  not  a  gracious  task  to  write  the  record  of  an  ex 
alted  lady  who  makes  opportunities  for  gallants,  and 
I  will  only  set  down  here  that  no  one  is  ever  like  to  know 
what  did  chance  in  the  sala  that  morning.  But  with  the 
unthinking  folly  of  youth,  I  did  not  note  the  closed  door 
until  I  had  tried  to  open  it,  and  found  the  bolt  held 
fast. 

With  what  haste  I  could,  I  was  making  retreat  when 
I  heard  a  chair  crash  to  the  floor,  and  a  wicked  word  or 
two  from  Tristan. 

He  shot  back  the  bolt,  and  I  heard  the  silks  of  the  lady 
rustle  across  the  floor. 

"  Tristan,  Tristan !  "  she  said,  and  he  halted  in  the 
half-open  door  lest  she  echo  the  call  where  there  was 
more  danger.  "  Tristan,  you  will  not  go  like  that?  And 
the  portrait " 

He  stood  very  straight  and  looked  at  her. 

"  As  I  told  you,  senora,  the  deserts  or  the  monastery 
walls  are  safest!  I  find  I  cannot  work  in  this  light.  I 
grieve  at  being  a  trouble  to  you,  but  if  Senor  de  Das- 
marinas  wishes  the  portrait,  he  may  be  able  to  arrange 
to  bring  you  to  the  monastery  —  the  workroom  of  Fray 
Bernardino  is  a  better  place." 


94       THE    HOUSE    OF    THE    DAWN 

"  I  will  not  go  there  —  I  will  not !    Tristan " 

"  Then  I  regret  I  cannot " 

"  You  do  not  mean  it  —  you  are  mad !  I  can  win  you 
favor,  or  —  I  can  work  you  ill." 

"  Surely,  yes,"  he  said,  and  bowed  low.  "  Adios, 
senora." 

"  No!  Tristan,  I  will  go  to  you,  I  will  do  as  you  say 
for  the  portrait.  But  you  are  mad,  Tristan,  quite  mad !  " 

She  laughed  a  little,  nervously,  as  though  to  pass  the 
scene  by  as  a  jest,  but  he  only  bowed  again,  and  walked 
out  without  seeing  me  where  I  stood  in  the  shadow  of  a 
pillar.  The  door  of  the  sala  was  slammed  shut,  and  I 
heard  the  bolt  click  again. 

Tristan  lied  complacently,  and  growled  that  the  light 
came  from  three  sides  in  the  sala,  and  was  a  devil  of  a 
place  to  paint  anyway ;  he  liked  a  good  tile  floor  where 
a  bit  of  trodden  charcoal  or  a  drop  of  paint  would  make 
no  difference. 

And  the  next  day  the  carriage  of  the  de  Dasmarinas 
was  again  at  the  monastery  with  the  lovely  Dona  Per- 
fecta.  And  there  the  painting  went  on,  the  Dona  Merce 
des  seated  demurely  by,  with  her  little  embroideries  and 
her  velvety  black  eyes. 

Tristan  worked,  silent  and  square  jawed,  while  that 
lovely  glowing  creature  made  a  blaze  of  color  in  an 
amber  silk  the  color  of  her  eyes.  He  would  stand  off 
and  stare  at  her  as  if  the  gracious  and  exalted  lady  had 
been  one  of  the  least  important  of  the  lay  brothers  in 
an  old  cowl. 

Once  her  husband  came  to  cast  an  eye  on  the  very 
safe  appearing  group,  and  once  the  carriage  of  the 
viceroy  halted  there  by  chance,  and  the  prior  was  made 


AMUSEMENTS   OF  PERFECTA     95 


to  feel  that  Tristan  was,  indeed,  bringing  special  pat 
ronage  through  the  using  of  Fray  Bernardino's  work 
shop.  But  with  it  all,  Tristan  was  irritable,  and  not  so 
good  a  companion.  Always  he  was  courteous  to  all 
women;  and  Dona  Mercedes  he  smiled  at  as  at  a  com 
rade,  but  I  could  see  him  hold  himself  tense  if  Dona 
Perfecta  came  close  or  touched  him.  He  hated  the 
woman  beyond  reason,  and  his  very  coldness  attracted 
her  by  its  novelty.  She  sent  him  letters  which  he 
burned,  and  even  to  me  she  made  affairs  pleasant  that 
he  might  see  all  his  friends  were  shown  favor.  Some 
times  she  sent  a  message  to  him  by  me,  for  Marco  was 
getting  sulky  on  her  hands,  and  was  not  in  good  humor 
if  Tristan  was  praised  over  much. 

I  tried,  as  I  might  —  flattered  by  her  sweet  voice  —  to 
show  Tristan  what  he  was  throwing  away  with  his  sad 
lack  of  tact,  but  he  shook  me  and  laughed,  and  bade 
me  keep  clear  of  her  net. 

"  She  is  a  fair  devil,  but  there  is  a  loathsome  feeling 
here  in  my  heart  for  her  —  so  what  use  to  reason? 
Others  are  glad  of  her  favors,  and,  as  you  see,  her  hus 
band  has  been  made  of  necessity  to  the  viceroy  because 
of  her  beauty.  If  she  keeps  all  those  lads  dangling  — 
Marco  and  his  sort  —  His  Excellency  may  well  think  it 
is  as  a  careless  cloak  to  cover  other  sociabilities.  But 
for  me  she  is  a  sweet  poison  thing,  and  if  this  keeps 
up " 

He  broke  off  and  laughed,  and  burned  the  letter  I  had 
taken,  and  then  sought  among  some  old  Indian  relics 
until  he  found  an  ugly  little  carving  of  a  woman's  figure 
with  the  robes  and  fan  of  the  ruling  class. 

He  looked  at  it,  and  laughed  again. 


\3  v  <~J  \~J  vcr^  \-JU  <^y  v^'V^/  VzSU  <zJj\~r\~J  Vr/v=i)  VrJ 
96       THE    HOUSE    OF    THE    DAWN 

"  Yesterday  she  wanted  a  flower  to  hold,  or  some 
other  thing  to  give  her  hands  occupation,"  he  said,  "  and 
it  is  this  I  will  give  her.  Thus  will  I  write  thoughts 
into  her  portrait  which  every  Indio  may  read  as  he  runs. 
She  hates  the  Indies  —  also  I  think  she  would  need  to 
fear  them  if  chance  should  take  her  their  way.  They 
often  measure  rightly  the  people  who  would  look  down 
on  them." 

"  But  the  little  statue?    What  is  its  meaning?  " 

"  She  was  a  queen  once  here  in  Mexico,  and  was  a 
very  powerful  lady,"  he  said.  "  Her  name  would  mean 
nothing  to  you,  but  this  is  the  thing  for  the  hands  of 
Dona  Perfecta  to  hold.  It  will  make  her  own  beauty 
more  glowing  by  contrast." 

This  he  told  her  when  she  came,  and  again  when  she 
demurred  at  the  queer  little  statue  and  its  queer  smile. 

"  But  it  might  be  a  pagan  god,  and  have  evil  power !  " 
she  protested. 

"  It  is  not  a  god,  but  a  princess  so  charming  that  many 
men  died  for  love  of  her,"  said  Tristan,  carefully  mix 
ing  his  colors,  yet  watching  her  with  amusement  as  she 
held  the  little  gilded  figure  so  curiously  made.  "  There, 
senora,  that  is  just  right  for  you  to  hold,  and,  as  I  said, 
the  lucky  figure  shows  your  white  hands  more  white." 

It  was  the  nearest  to  a  compliment  she  had  wrung 
from  him  during  the  painting,  and  her  face  flushed  with 
the  triumph. 

"  And  men  did  die  for  her  —  truly?  "  she  asked. 

"  Truly  they  did.  So  famous  was  the  love  felt  for  her 
that  images  were  made  also  of  many  of  the  lovers  after 
they  were  dead  —  all  this  that  the  land  should  not  for 
get  one  who  charmed  so  well." 


AMUSEMENTS   OF  PERFECTA     97 

I  could  see  a  laughing  devil  in  the  eyes  of  Tristan 
while  the  wife  of  De  Dasmarinas,  the  friend  of  a  viceroy, 
held  the  image,  quite  content  at  his  words  and  tone.  He 
even  hummed  an  air  as  he  worked,  and  then  broke  off  to 
regard  her  with  pleasure. 

Thus  went  on  the  portrait  he  had  made  protest  against 
doing.  All  was  in  harmony  except,  perhaps,  Marco,  who 
fretted  at  sight  of  the  carriage  of  Dona  Perfecta  so  often 
out  by  the  monastery,  and  once  at  the  palace  I  saw  her 
slip  her  hand  on  his  as  she  chided  him  for  it. 

With  all  this,  I  think  most  of  us  forgot  that  the1  girl 
Anita,  with  her  pretty  tasks,  was  left  without  company 
of  the  ladies  for  at  least  an  hour  or  two  each  day.  But 
Luiza  was  much  pleased  that  she  was  seeing  the  world 
a  little,  and  acquiring  a  dignity  from  the  palace  air.  As 
for  Mateo,  he  was  so  proud  that  two  of  the  family  were 
under  patronage  of  Dona  Perfecta  that  he  was  slavish 
as  a  dog  for  her,  and  would  have  either  done  murder  at 
her  word  or  made  himself  a  rug  for  her  feet. 


CHAPTER  VIII 
SANCHA  TO  ALPHARD 

IT  WAS  the  day  of  the  last  sitting  for  the  picture  that 
word  came  from  Vera  Cruz  —  a  ship  from  Spain  was 
in,  and  it  was  my  pleasure  to  ride  south,  meeting  the 
carriers.  Besides  a  letter  for  me,  there  was  a  thick, 
soft  packet  addressed  to  "  Don  Marco  de  Ordono  by 
the  hand  of  Rueda  at  Convent  of  San  Carlos  in  Mexico." 

By  going  to  meet  the  train  of  packers,  I  headed  the 
bearer  straight  to  the  monastery  with  no  risk  of  the  let 
ter  arriving  at  the  hands  of  Marco.  Her  own  letter  to 
me,  full  of  joy  and  excitement,  showed  me  that  happi 
ness  was  hers,  and  I  was  of  a  mind  that  it  should  not  be 
made  subject  to  the  jeers  of  Marco. 

There  was  a  flutter  among  the  women  when  I  en 
tered,  waving  my  letter  in  triumph,  and  gave  the  packet 
to  Tristan. 

He  held  it,  staring  at  the  writing  on  it,  and  his  face 
flushed  warm.  His  first  movement  was  to  put  it  aside, 
but  the  mockery  of  Dona  Mercedes  and  the  half  closed 
eyes  of  Senora  de  Dasmarinas  warned  him  that  secrecy 
was  not  in  high  favor.  An  open  face  would  make  the 
matter  forgotten  more  quickly. 

So,  careless  as  might  be,  he  lifted  a  knife  from  a  bench 
of  brushes  and  tools,  cut  the  cord,  and  lifted  the  seal. 
With  the  first  unfolding  of  the  paper  there  was  a  scream 

98 


SANCHATOALPHARD  99 

of  laughter  from  Dona  Mercedes,  and  the  little  carved 
figure  slipped  from  the  hand  of  Dona  Perfecta  as  she 
stared. 

For,  from  the  folded  paper  there  fell  a  soft  glove  of 
kid,  fringed  with  silver,  and  lay,  a  white  spot  on  the 
red  tile  at  the  feet  of  Tristan. 

"  Ai,  ai !  "  laughed  the  Dona  Mercedes.  "  The  man 
has  made  my  Ernesto  jealous  that  I  am  so  often  in  this 
place  of  paint  and  brushes.  Now  I  can  tell  him  he  can 
rest  his  soul !  Don  Tristan  is  guarded  by  a  mistress  who 
sends  the  glove  as  promise  of  the  hand.  Ai,  ai !  " 

Her  merriment  gave  Tristan  a  chance  to  smile  with 
her,  and  he  lifted  the  glove  and  thrust  it,  with  the  letter, 
in  his  belt  under  the  old  robe. 

"  You  will  note,  lovely  lady,  that  I  turned  nowhere 
for  glove  or  letter  till  the  day  of  your  betrothal,"  he 
said,  and  she  laughed  again,  and  teased  him.  Those  two 
were  ever  care-free  comrades,  and  I  had  been  told  it 
was  Tristan  who  had  helped  Ernesto  Galvez  to  his  woo 
ing.  Galvez  was  in  the  north,  and  Dona  Mercedes  made 
embroideries  for  her  wedding,  and  jested  happily  while 
waiting  his  return. 

Then  Tristan  lifted  the  little  carven  figure  and  placed 
it  in  the  hands  of  Dona  Perfecta,  and  went  on  with  the 
picture. 

"  It  is  the  last  day  I  shall  tire  you,  senora,"  he  said, 
"  but  there  are  the  last  little  touches  a  worker  must 
linger  over." 

Dona  Perfecta  said  no  word,  and  sat  there  as  steady 
and  cold  as  the  carving  of  the  dead  princess  of  many 
lovers.  Dona  Mercedes  had  eyes  for  all,  and  smiled 
over  her  pretty  silken  webs.  Her  life  had  not  been  one 


ioo     THE    HOUSE    OF    THE    DAWN 

of  joy  in  the  house  of  De  Dasmarinas,  where,  beyond 
doubt,  she  saw  enough  to  make  her  dread  domestic  up 
heavals  any  morning  she  opened  her  eyes.  It  was  easy 
to  perceive  that  her  heart  was  glad  of  that  glove  and 
letter  of  mystery ;  it  gave  a  new  color  to  her  day,  and  she 
ceased  not  to  make  merry  over  it,  even  singing  softly 
a  love  song  for  Tristan  of  a  loved  one  far  away. 

But  in  the  midst  of  it,  Dona  Perfecta  arose,  and  rustled 
her  silks  ovet  the  tiles,  and  stood  close  to  Tristan  to  look 
at  the  picture. 

He  bent  to  write  with  a  brush  like  a  needle  a  strange 
name  on  the  base  of  the  little  carving,  then  stepped  back 
a  pace. 

"  It  is  done,  Excellencia,"  he  said.  "  Were  it  not  a 
portrait  it  should  be  called '  Two  Queens  of  Mexico.'  " 

"  That  would  be  treason,"  said  Dona  Mercedes,  "  since 
there  can  be  only  one  vicereine  in  Mexico." 

"  I  doubt  if  Don  Tomas  would  punish  a  loyal  subject 
for  naming  a  lady  queen  of  loves,"  said  Tristan. 

He  was  so  little  given  to  compliment,  and  so  beyond 
reason  cold  to  the  lady  the  viceroy  certainly  delighted 
to  honor,  that  I  was  puzzled  to  understand  his  words  or 
his  mocking  smile,  for  the  picture  itself  was  not  a  thing 
to  smile  at.  Once  at  work  he  had  forgotten  that  she 
was  the  sweet  poison  he  had  once  said,  and  the  painting 
seemed  to  me  a  quite  glorious  thing,  her  face  like  a 
flower,  a  string  of  topaz  girding  her  golden  hair,  and  the 
amber  silk  in  soft  folds  about  her.  One  red  flower  lay 
in  her  lap,  and  her  jeweled  hand  held  the  ugly  Mexican 
statue  while  she  looked  at  it  as  if  she  would  read  its 
riddle  of  colors  and  symbols. 

"  It  is  then  done !  "  she  said,  and  looked  at  Tristan. 


SANCHATOALPHARD  101 

"  Go  you  out,  Mercedes,  and  see  that  the  carriage  is 
ready  for  it." 

"  There  would  be  wisdom  in  letting  it  rest  here  until 
the  drying  is  complete,"  he  observed. 

"  And  my  visits  would  not  be  needed  for  that !  Go 
you  out,  Mercedes,  while  I  speak  with  Senor  Rueda." 

Of  course,  at  that,  there  was  nothing  for  me  but  to  go 
out  also,  which  I  did,  and  Dona  Mercedes  laughed  and 
made  a  mocking  bow  to  Senora  de  Dasmarinas  when 
once  the  corridor  hid  us. 

"  Go  you  out,  Mercedes !  "  she  mimicked  with  slight 
respect.  "  Small  care  she  has  of  me,  to  send  me  out  with 
a  gallant  and  no  duenna !  " 

We  laughed  at  and  made  merry  over  this  in  the  cor 
ridor. 

But  for  all  that,  we  were  given  a  long  wait,  and  I  was 
made  to  see  that  Dona  Perfecta's  selection  of  a  com 
panion  had  been  thought  out  with  care.  An  older 
woman  could  not  be  dismissed  with  such  briefness,  nor 
keep  so  silent. 

"  For  the  first  time  in  her  life  Perfecta  is  made  mad 
by  a  man  unlike  all  the  others,"  she  whispered.  "  I  do 
not  know  that  she  would  look  at  him  twice  if  he  were 
at  her  call  as  is  Marco  de  Ordono  —  perhaps  not.  On 
my  soul,  I  think  if  he  but  satisfied  her  pride  to  seek 
her,  she  would  delight  in  seeing  the  viceroy  send  him 
on  missions  so  far  he  could  never  get  back!  It  is  her 
pride  he  offends  at  every  turn ;  but  it  is  over  a  year  now, 
and  I  never  knew  her  to  show  favor  so  long." 

"What  becomes  of  those  forgotten?"  I  asked,  not 
because  I  cared,  but  the  wait  was  long,  and  one  must 
not  be  dull. 


loa     THE    HOUSE    OF    THE    DAWN 

Mercedes  looked  at  me,  suddenly  grave. 

"  God  knows !  now  that  she  has  power,"  she  said. 
"  When  Don  Eduardo  was  but  governor  of  a  southern 
province,  there  were  always  troubles  with  the  natives. 
Young  soldiers  were  needed,  and  many  never  came  back. 
It  is  a  nice  sign  of  favor,  you  know,  to  be  made  a  lieuten 
ant  of  guard  over  the  heads  of  older  men !  Most  youths 
think  it  a  feather  in  their  cap." 

"What  of  Marco?"  I  asked. 

"  Oh,  he  is  safe !  Betrothed  to  a  very  exalted  lady 
and  due  to  return  to  Spain  any  day.  She  has  use  for 
Don  Marco  and  they  are  well  matched.  He  may  be  of 
use  to  her  in  Spain  if  ever  she  goes  back,  and  she  has 
been  of  special  use  to  him  here.  They  understand  each 
other  —  those  two!  But  who  understands  Don 
Tristan?" 

When  Dona  Perfecta  joined  us  at  the  portal,  it  was 
without  the  picture,  and  only  the  prior  was  with  her.  At 
that  moment  the  viceroy  drove  by  with  Don  Eduardo 
beside  him  in  the  carriage,  and  there  were  lifted  hats 
and  smiles,  and  all  looked  so  harmless  one  would  never 
guess  the  adventures  under  the  thin  surface  of  things. 

I  made  excuse  to  Dona  Perfecta,  who  was  so  gracious 
as  to  ask  me  to  drive  with  them,  and  once  they  had 
rolled  away,  I  rushed  back  to  Tristan  to  read  him  my 
letter  —  my  first  letter  from  Sancha!  That  matter  of 
the  glove  was  a  mystery  for  me  as  well  as  for  the  ladies, 
and  it  was  many  days  before  it  was  made  clear. 

He  was  alone,  the  yellow  glow  of  the  picture  was 
already  turned  to  the  wall,  and  the  letter  was  open 
before  him. 

"  Come  out  into  the  garden,"  he  said.    "  There  is  still 


SANCHATOALPHARD  103 

the  odor  of  palace  perfumes  lingering  here.  Come  out 
under  the  sky." 

"  See  what  you  have  done !  "  I  protested  angrily.  "  You 
have  made  her  in  love  with  Marco,  so  in  love  that  she 
has  even  kind  thoughts  of  you  because  you  have  done 
him  service.  I  learn  new  things  of  him  each  day,  and 
love  for  him  is  the  last  thing  she  should  know.  Read 
the  letter!" 

So  he  read  aloud: 

My  dear  Cousin  Juanito: 

I  send  my  blessings  and  my  love  to  you.  I  feel  today  love 
for  all  the  world!  No  more  dolls  have  come,  but  a  letter  from 
his  own  hand.  His  wisdom  is  beyond  that  of  all  the  padres. 
How  sweet  it  is  that  you  can  see  him,  walk  by  him,  and  hear 
his  voice!  Why  must  maids  be  left  behind?  I  am  wild  to  fol 
low  you!  Nothing  happens  here  but  what  happened  to  our 
grandmothers,  and  where  you  are  there  are  new  things,  and 
wonderful  things. 

Sister  Teresa  tells  me  that  when  the  next  ship  sails,  nuns  go 
to  Mexico  to  establish  a  convent  for  Indian  maids.  I  would 
wish  myself  a  nun  if  it  were  not  that  he  could  not  wed  a  nun  — 
and  some  day  he  is  to  wed  with  me!  I  was  very  wicked  to  say  I 
was  not  his  wife;  that  was  childish  of  me,  for  I  know  now  in  my 
heart  that  the  betrothal  was  as  a  marriage.  Why  cannot  I  also 
go  over  sea  when  all  I  love  is  there  with  you?  I  am  not  now 
a  child.  What  use  of  gold  if  it  takes  me  not  to  my  dreams? 
The  world  here  is  empty.  Write  me  by  every  ship  and  tell 
me  how  he  fares.  By  the  address  I  see  he  is  friends  always 
with  that  Tristan  Rueda  of  whom  the  padre  wrote  when  he 
saved  the  life  of  Marco  in  the  wilderness.  I  think  it  was  he 
who  put  me  in  a  rage  once  when  Marco's  picture  was  new.  I 
thought  of  him  as  a  cruel  black  bear  after  that,  but  perhaps  he 
is  not  so  bad  now.  I  love  all  who  are  near  to  Marco,  so  give 
Tristan  Rueda  my  blessing.  Also  to  Don  Rodrigo  my  saluta 
tion.  What  word  would  he  have  for  me  if  I  became  a  nun  that 


i  •    lBW*B»»MP««««««»«a«**^«"^*"»"«««^"^**»^««M"""»^"»"«"^^^^"«^"^""™^**^*«^^*>*™W™**"*^"^BllM*a* 

104     THE    HOUSE    OF    THE    DAWN 

I  might  go  to  Mexico?    Frighten  them  with  that  so  they  come 
home,  and  quickly! 

A  good  safe  ship  to  take  this  to  you  —  and  the  love  of  your 
cousin,  Sancha. 

"  You  see !  "  I  said,  shaking  my  head  with  the  wisdom 
of  nineteen  years.  "  You  all  sat  here,  and  threw  dice, 
and  made  jests,  and  thought  she  was  a  child  —  but  you 
have  made  her  love  him,  and  raised  the  devil !  " 

He  looked  at  me,  laughed  at  my  fuming,  and  then 
sighed. 

"  So  it  seems,"  said  he. 

"  And  the  glove  —  that  too  was  for  him,"  I  blundered, 
"  what  to  do  but  give  it  to  him,  and  save  trouble  in  the 
future  for  all  of  us?  " 

"  And  have  him  flaunt  it  in  the  sala  of  Dona  Perfecta 
to  make  others  jealous?  " 

That  silenced  me  on  the  matter  of  the  glove,  though 
I  thought  the  least  he  could  do  was  to  give  it  to  me,  her 
kinsman. 

"  And  God  only  knows  what  she  wrote  in  the  letter," 
I  grumbled. 

"  God  only,"  he  said,  "  and  I." 

I  saw  by  that  how  little  use  there  was  to  question, 
though  I  did  sulk  over  it  a  little.  I  had  run  to  him  with 
a  free  heart  and  let  him  read  her  writing  with  his  own 
eyes,  even  her  good  words  of  him.  And  he  buckled  close 
his  own  message,  and  did  not  even  let  me  touch  the 
glove. 

Yet  the  letter  was  to  come  to  me  as  he  least  expected, 
and  thus  I  learned  the  new  Sancha.  I  give  it  here  as 
it  was  written : 


/••i^S^t^MuEsG^lB^ 

SANCHA    TO    ALPHARD  105 

To  Alphard  in  the  Sky: 

I  send  the  glove  because  I  may  not  send  the  hand  to  you. 
Think  in  your  heart  that  I  only  whisper  what  I  say  here  —  for 
how  else  might  Virgo  send  message  to  Alphard  but  by  whisper 
on  the  wind?  So  wise  you  grow  that  I  write  in  fear  of  my 
simple  words,  but  I  think  you  do  know  I  look  at  the  circling 
stars  to  find  the  wonders  you  read  there  —  it  makes  you  closer 
to  me.  Did  you  know  that  long  ago  there  was  a  legend  of  a 
Moor  of  Granada  in  our  family?  He  was  a  prince,  and  also 
most  wise  in  star  knowledge.  That  seems  true  to  me  now,  for 
your  letter  wakes  things  sleeping  in  my  mind,  though  I  have 
no  memory  of  when  they  went  to  sleep.  It  may  sound  childish 
to  your  wisdom  but  that  is  what  you  make  me  feel.  I  have  a 
wish  that  the  sea  were  not  so  wide,  that  I  might  go  where  you 
are  and  see  with  you  the  wonders  you  write.  You  write  of 
serpent  things  which  have  been  things  of  fear,  but  as  I  read, 
I  remember  the  tale  in  the  "  Pentameron  "  of  the  serpent  who 
was  a  prince  under  enchantment.  Then  a  maid  gave  him  ten 
derness  so  that  his  true  spirit  awoke,  and  they  lived  in  happi 
ness  in  a  palace.  I  do  not  ask -a  palace,  but  your  deserts  and 
"  houses  of  dawn  "  speak  their  mysteries  and  beauty  to  me.  This 
night  there  is  a  new  moon.  I  kissed  a  rose  and  tossed  it  up  in 
my  gladness  to  be  alive  and  in  your  thoughts,  then  I  knelt  in 
the  grass  and  looked  and  looked  as  the  crescent  sunk  far  in 
the  sky  going  the  path  to  you.  I  was  trying  to  know  what  the 
red  pagans  feel  when  they  make  the  moon  prayer,  and  tears 
came  into  my  eyes  at  the  beauty  of  the  night,  and  the  wish  that 
you  might  kneel  beside  me.  Will  that  night  come?  I  think  of 
the  wilderness  shrines  under  the  sky,  and  wish  much  to  know 
of  the  "  houses  of  the  dawn."  It  is  a  marvel  that  you  learn  these 
prayer  thoughts  and  places.  Juanito  will  tell  you  I  have  had 
wild  hours  of  desire  to  go  where  you  are  —  but  even  Juanito 
does  not  know  how  wild!  Could  Virgo  step  down  and  go 
a-journeying?  Why  may  I  not  travel  when  all  the  others  do? 
I  am  making  prayers  to  my  Saint  of  the  Impossible  that  this 
may  come  to  pass.  I  said  a  prayer  to  her  when  I  wrote  you 
my  first  letter.  She  made  the  reply  to  come  on  the  first  ship 
—  is  that  not  a  true  miracle?  For  I  knew  not  then  there  was 


io6     THE    HOUSE    OF    THE    DAWN 

anyone  in  the  world  to  think  of  me  as  you  think  —  yet  she 
brought  it  to  be!  Shall  we  build  a  shrine  to  her  some  fair 
day  in  some  secret  place  where  white  butterflies  are?  That  is 
a  dear  wish  of  mine.  Is  it  yours? 

Virgo  trembles  at  thought  of  the  great  glowing  heart  of 
Hydra  under  her  feet;  she  would  lift  him  high  as  her  heart 
and  journey  together  in  the  skies  where  souls  grow  big  and 
full  of  beauty.  Thus  you  will  read  that  Virgo  is  only  a  lonely 
maid  who  awaits  the  day  of  enchantment  when  a  dream  comes 
true.  This  from  the  hand  of  Sancha. 

In  my  letter  by  the  next  ship  I  gave  what  wise  warn 
ing  I  was  able  against  roving  maids,  and  added  a  cau 
tious  word  against  dreaming  that  Mexico  was  another 
heaven  on  earth,  for,  despite  the  work  of  the  church,  it 
yet  had  its  own  hells.  The  men  were  not  yet  saints, 
nor  the  women  angels.  In  my  own  opinion,  it  would  be 
better  that  Marco  be  called  to  Spain  with  Don  Rodrigo, 
who  was  ill  in  health. 

I  did  not  add,  as  was  my  desire,  that  no  land  would 
be  the  richer  of  him,  however  far  he  might  journey,  for 
in  every  country  alike  can  be  found  pretty  youths  who 
grow  to  pretty  men  and  sport  a  cock's  feather,  and  a 
strut,  and  know  how  to  wear  a  cloak  or  hide  a  woman 
under  it !  So  far  as  I  could  see,  the  travels  of  Marco  had 
given  him  no  vision  broader  than  that. 

But  of  what  use  my  advice  and  labored  wisdom,  when 
another  of  those  letters  of  the  dice  went  forward  in  the 
same  ship?  I  do  not  think  Tristan  had  a  mind  contrary 
to  my  own,  but  of  a  certainty  he  had  a  way  of  writing 
his  thoughts  in  a  different  manner  and  the  effect  was 
beyond  our  knowing.  I  still  think  my  own  the  wiser 
way,  thought  it  might  not  so  quickly  enchant  a  maid  as 
this  of  his. 


SANCHA    TO    ALPHARD  107 

White  Butterfly  Lady: 

That  heart  in  the  sky  is  at  once  lifted  high  at  your  words, 
and  I  wish  it  were  wise  to  leave  go  all  earthly  things  on  this 
shore  and  cross  over  to  your  world,  or  say  to  you  "come!" 
and  count  the  hours  until  I  dared  look  on  your  face. 

But  even  your  Saint  of  the  Impossible  could  scarce  bring 
that  to  be.  Believe  me  when  I  say  it  were  an  easier  task  she 
had  when  she  brought  roses  from  under  winter  snows.  Won 
drous  with  strange  beauty  though  this  land  may  be,  all  hearts 
are  not  joyous  here.  I  could  not  sadden  you  with  troubles  of 
the  earth,  and  for  that  reason  bade  you  look  to  the  things  of 
the  sky. 

The  Houses  of  the  Dawn  are  many  from  Peru  to  New 
Granada.  They  are  the  sanctuaries  of  sun  worship,  where  a 
priest  stands  with  lifted  hands  of  adoration  when  his  visible 
symbol  of  God  comes  to  him  out  of  the  darkness.  Some  of 
these  houses  were  things  of  beauty,  but  many  have  been 
destroyed  for  the  gold  of  their  vessels,  and  for  the  salvation 
of  souls.  In  secret  places  of  the  deserts  and  forests  they  still 
stand  to  catch  the  light  on  certain  high  places,  and  are  thought 
holy.  They  mean  more  than  a  house;  they  have  a  sky  spirit  to 
lift  earth  spirits  out  of  darkness.  For  this  reason  are  they  both 
sanctuaries  and  places  of  refuge  to  the  pagan  mind  —  so  sure 
are  they  that  the  god  of  the  sun  has  a  care  of  them. 

Records  have  been  made  of  such  matters  for  Don  Payo,  but 
many  good  Christians  do  not  approve,  and  there  is  feeling 
against  speech  or  writing  of  these  pagan  things,  and  I  must 
write  not  so  much  lest  your  confessor  give  you  warning. 

The  glove  is  with  me.  It  is  truly  to  me  as  the  rose  of  your 
Santa  Rita  from  under  the  snow  —  a  blossom  I  never  dared 
hope  would  cross  the  seas  to  touch  my  hand!  If  I  could  write 
that  which  is  within  me,  I  could  cover  much  paper  to  you,  but 
words  are  weak  and  even  strength  must  often  choose  silence. 
I  write  here  a  little  song  of  that  silence: 

If  Love  were  mine  — 

The  love  of  maid  divine  to  me! 

I'd  build  a  shrine 

Within  my  heart  where  none  could  sec. 


io8     THE    HOUSE    OF    THE    DAWN 

And  there  my  litany 
Of  heart  beats,  endlessly 
Would  whisper  all  the  vows 
I  dare  not  say! 

Once  when  I  dreamed  of  you  in  a  wonderful  desert  place  to 
the  north,  I  woke  with  that  song  singing  in  my  heart.  It  was 
long  ago,  little  maid.  At  that  time  I  did  not  know  white  Virgo 
would  ever  whisper  a  warm  word  to  Alphard,  who  has  ever 
been,  in  all  the  night  skies,  the  solitary  one.  The  song  is 
simple,  for  the  reason  that  the  writer  is  many  other  things,  but 
not  a  poet.  Yet  he  does  think  poet  thoughts  when  Virgo  comes 
into  the  Mexican  sky  out  of  the  east.  He  cannot  ever  be  the 
prince  of  the  legend  of  enchantment  for  you,  and  his  hand  can 
never  lead  you  to  a  king's  palace,  but  it  would  be  joy  to  build 
with  you  a  shrine  to  the  saint  of  your  prayers.  I  dare  not  pray 
at  any  shrine  for  that  which  you  make  me  wish.  I  am  neither 
wise,  nor  great,  little  maid  of  the  white  butterflies.  I  am  only 
a  man  who  wished  to  make  you  less  lonely.  Surely  of  all  the 
stars  of  the  sky,  the  Solitary  One  knows  best  the  hurt  of  lonely 
lives.  For  that  I  have  written  you,  and  for  that  I  bid  you  know 
that  far  below  your  feet  is  stretched  the  guardian  one,  whose 
heart  is  Alphard. 


— 1 


CHAPTER  IX 
THE  TRIAL  OF  THE  FAITH 

ANEW  expedition  of  colonists  was  fitting  out 
for  New  Granada  of  the  Rio  Grande  del  Norte, 
and  I  was  of  half  a  mind  to  go,  for  the  sheer 
adventure  of  new  lands,  but  Don  Rodrigo  re 
mained  stubbornly  ill.    Thus  there  were  some  weeks  of 
nursing,  and  Tristan  was  so  closely  held  that  I  could 
hope  for  neither  help  nor  encouragement  from  him.    He 
was  full  of  regret  that  he  had  not  urged  the  old  soldier 
to  take  ship  with  Don  Payo,  and  be  among  his  own  home 
kindred  if  serious  sickness  should  come. 

For  while  there  were  neither  words  nor  grieving  from 
him,  there  was  little  doubt  that  the  loss  of  Don  Fernando 
was  as  a  support  wrested  from  him,  and  this,  so  quickly 
followed  by  the  departure  of  Don  Payo,  left  the  old  man 
bewildered  between  illness  and  the  new  regime  into 
which  it  was  not  so  easy  to  fit  himself. 

Tristan  was  the  only  confidential  support  left  him,  and 
the  cares  of  Tristan  made  a  very  full  seven  days  in  the 
week ;  thus  he  was  ever  provided  with  fair  excuses  when 
the  messages  from  Dona  Perfecta  or  Don  Eduardo  would 
entreat  him  to  the  palace  where  the  portrait  was  a 
source  of  praise.  Marco  was  half  inclined  to  go  north 
because  of  some  gorgeous  tales  of  turquoise  found  there. 
Ernesto  Galvez  had  returned,  and  brought  much  fine 

109 


no     THE    HOUSE    OF    THE    DAWN 

stone,  and  some  encouraging  washings  of  gold.  There 
was  a  fever  in  the  air  over  it,  and  it  seemed  plain  that 
Dona  Perfecta  encouraged  it  so  far  as  Marco  de  Ordono 
was  concerned.  She  stood  ready  to  be  his  advocate  for 
position  and  honor,  since  there  should  always  be  men 
of  the  ruling  class  to  keep  up  the  dignity  of  a  cavalcade. 

Dona  Mercedes,  happy  over  her  approaching  wedding, 
smiled  at  me  when  Marco  told  us,  with  a  bit  of  swag 
ger,  of  the  proffered  honors. 

"Is  it  that  Dona  Perfecta  would  change  courtiers?" 
I  asked  her. 

"  It  may  be,  yet  he  is  useful  to  Perfecta,  and  I  would 
rather  hazard  a  guess  that  there  is  jealousy  some 
where." 

"Her  husband?"  I  asked,  scenting  a  fine  scandal  if 
he  should  make  troubles  so  late  in  the  day. 

"No  —  Don  Eduardo  thinks  only  of  holding  political 
powers,  or  adding  to  them  —  he  sees  little  else." 

"  Then  —  " 

"  There  is  a  higher  official,  you  know,  than  Don 
Eduardo,"  she  said  with  a  little  shrug.  "  Also  there  is 
an  old  friendship  between  him  and  Perfecta.  It  may  be 
he  grows  tired  of  seeing  the  same  pets  in  the  palace. 
Thank  God  I  shall  be  safely  married  and  out  of  it  ere 
long !  It  is  not  so  easy,  Don  Juanito,  to  be  an  undowered 
maid  in  a  house  of  political  intrigues.  I  have  learned 
so  much  I  will  scarcely  be  able  to  trust  my  own  husband 
when  I  get  him !  " 

"  Yet  there  are  those  who  envy  you  the  chance  to 
live  at  a  palace." 

"  Foolish  they !  But  a  soldier's  orphan  must  take 
what  offers.  Perfecta  has  no  love  for  my  presence;  it 


THE    TRIAL    OF   THE    FAITH       in 

is  the  safe,  placid  Don  Eduardo  who  deemed  it  wise  to 
remember  a  far  relationship.  It  left  Perfecta  not  alone 
among  strangers  if  he  was  absent,  and  odious  gossips 
would  have  less  to  whisper.  He  is  a  good  soul  in  intent. 
I  would  have  sorrow  if  she  should  forget  it  utterly.  She 
was  but  a  child  widow  when  she  married  him  —  yet  not 
a  child!  She  picked,  not  the  richest  suitor,  but  the 
safest,  and  one  of  family.  You  see  already  what  she 
has  made  him.  Yet  she  encourages  him  to  think  he  did 
it  himself,  and  that  she  is  his  greatest  admirer!  Men 
are  curious." 

To  myself  I  thought  women  were. 

"Tristan  knows  all  these  things  —  think  you?"  I 
asked. 

"Why  not?  He  knows  old  soldiers  of  her  father's 
troop.  Now  that  she  has  won  apartments  in  the  palace, 
their  memories  may  not  prove  keen  —  for  she  has  power, 
and  God  knows  what  ambition.  Vanity  alone  stands 
chance  to  win  her ;  for  she  has  ever  seen  lads  fight  for 
her  —  and  needs  for  her  content  to  ever  see  it !  " 

Scarce  a  week  went  by  after  that  until  she  saw  more 
of  it  than  the  greatest  coquette  could  wish,  for  Marco, 
after  carrying  and  showing  his  commission  as  maestro  de 
campo  for  a  week,  grew  suddenly  jealous  and  let  the  col 
onists  go  north  without  him. 

Some  way  Dona  Perfecta  got  grace  for  him  on  the 
ground  of  illness,  and  another  man  took  charge,  for  the 
whims  of  Marco  had  already  made  too  many  delays  for 
his  own  comfort. 

Thus  affairs  stood,  with  Marco  stalking  about  sullenly, 
when  Tristan  was  called  to  the  palace  to  help  make 
straight  some  records  left  over  from  Don  Payo's  day, 


ii2      THE    HOUSE    OF    THE    DAWN 

a  simple  enough  thing  to  everyone  else,  but  a  thing  of 
import  to  the  jealous,  watchful  eyes  of  Marco. 

Dona  Mercedes,  who  told  me  of  it,  knew  only  that 
Tristan,  in  leaving  the  work  completed  in  the  hands 
of  Don  Eduardo,  chanced  to  halt  on  the  gallery  to  speak 
with  Anita,  who  was  screened  from  the  garden  by  the 
blossoming  vines.  Tristan  had  no  thought,  perhaps, 
that  he  was  standing  outside  the  private  apartment  of 
Dona  Perfecta,  and  after  a  few  words  with  Anita,  passed 
on  and  out,  to  be  met  by  Marco  boiling  with  fury.  He 
saw  in  Tristan  the  sole  reason  of  his  commission  to  the 
provinces,  and  what  he  said  was  heard  by  all  who  cared 
to  listen.  He  accused  Tristan  of  scheming  to  put  him 
out  of  favor  with  the  viceroy,  and  whatever  he  could 
recall  of  patronage  accepted  by  Tristan,  he  flung  in  his 
face  under  the  eyes  and  ears  of  all  who  thronged  the 
court.  He  fumed  that  Tristan  was  trying  to  climb  by 
clinging  to  the  skirts  of  a  woman,  and  then  he  spoke 
of  him  as  ingrate  and  baseborn  —  a  peasant  who  strove 
to  climb  palace  steps! 

Then  it  was  that  Tristan,  having  no  weapon,  struck 
him  down  with  his  hand,  and  left  him  there,  stretched 
on  the  tiles,  with  the  blood  from  his  nose  not  adding  to 
his  beauty.  A  cry  went  up  to  halt  the  man  who  had 
struck  down  a  gentleman  within  the  palace  grounds,  but 
the  call  came  too  late,  for  those  nearest  had  already 
shrunk  back  to  give  Tristan  room,  and  he  walked  out 
without  a  word  from  first  to  last. 

Straight  to  the  house  of  Luiza  he  went,  for  it  was  there 
Don  Rodrigo  was  being  nursed.  The  good  woman  made 
many  a  prayer  there,  as  in  spite  of  all  good  nursing,  the 
color  came  not  back  to  the  old  man,  and  the  flesh  was 


THE    TRIAL    OF    THE    FAITH       113 

shrinking  until  his  face  held  deep  wrinkles  instead  of  its 
former  plump  glow. 

Tristan  walked  past  her  as  he  had  walked  past  the 
people  at  the  palace,  and  for  the  first  time  in  his  life  he 
had  neither  courtesy  for  woman,  nor  mercy  on  age.  To 
the  comfort  of  Luiza,  Don  Rodrigo  was  having  a  fairly 
good  sleep,  but  the  hand  of  Tristan  fell  on  his  shoulder 
as  if  he  might  have  been  a  sentry  sleeping  on  post. 

"  Awake  and  talk  to  me,"  he  said.  "  Who  was  my 
father?" 

Don  Rodrigo  opened  his  eyes,  and  looked  in  fear  at 
the  hard  face. 

"  Tell  me  now,"  said  Tristan.  "  I  have  had  patience. 
I  have  had  courtesy,  I  have  waited  long.  But  whatever 
it  may  do  to  me,  I  want  the  truth  if  you  know  it.  You 
must  know  it  if  he  does !  " 

"  He?  "  and  Don  Rodrigo  was  trembling,  "  he?  " 

"  Marco  —  he  said  I  was  some  peasant's  bastard  whom 
his  family  protected." 

"  Holy  God!    What  did  you  do?  " 

"  I  struck  him  down  in  the  palace.    I  want  the  truth." 

Don  Rodrigo  signed  Luiza  to  leave,  and  she  did,  and 
knelt  praying  in  her  kitchen,  feeling  as  if  her  world  were 
rocking.  As  boys,  Tristan  had  been  master,  and  now 
as  man  he  had  struck  down  his  foster  brother. 

"  The  truth,"  said  Tristan  when  she  had  gone.  "  Who 
was  my  father?" 

"  Tristan,  have  you  never  guessed?  " 

"  Yes,  many  times.  You,  General  de  Ordono,  and 
even  — " 

Don  Rodrigo  drew  from  under  his  pillow  a  rosary  of 
brown  beads  with  turquoise  and  shell  interposed. 


u4     THE    HOUSE    OF    THE    DAWN 

"  It  came  to  me  from  Don  Payo.  It  is  now  yours, 
Tristan,  for  he  was  the  man: — Fernando." 

And  Tristan  knelt  to  receive  the  rosary,  and  laid  his 
head  on  the  bed,  and  hid  his  face  because  of  the  tears. 

"  I  dreamed  that,  and  hoped  it,"  he  said,  "  yet  it  is  a 
bitter  word  for  all  that.  He  gave  his  life  trying  to  make 
amends  for  a  folly  of  mine  —  and  I  gave  him  love  as  I 
gave  no  other." 

"  So  long  as  he  lived  you  were  not  to  know  —  but  he 
took  the  seal  from  my  lips.  He  saved  the  life  of  Pedro, 
Marco's  father  —  more  than  his  life,  for  they  were  pris 
oners  of  the  Moors  —  held  for  ransom.  All  he  ever 
asked  of  the  De  Ordono  in  recompense  was  shelter  and 
secrecy  for  you." 

"  If  there  was  secrecy  —  then  Marco  told  the  truth 
you  have  all  hidden,"  said  Tristan,  but  Don  Rodrigo 
shook  his  head. 

"  See  that  the  door  is  closed  tightly,"  he  said,  "  for  I 
give  you  the  secret  of  souls  gone  to  God,  and  it  might 
be  better  if  I  never  told ;  I  do  not  know." 

"  If  I  am  not  of  shameful  blood,  give  me  the  truth  of 
it,"  said  Tristan. 

"  It  were  hard  to  do,  if  it  were  not  that  you  have  ever 
read  books,  and  know  some  things  of  history  which  I 
lack,"  and  the  old  man  was  plainly  averse  to  the  task. 
"  And  so  you  know  there  were  very  wealthy,  and  very 
learned  Jews  of  Spain  who  were  banished,  and  took  with 
them  the  mr.gic,  and  it  was  said  accursed  knowledge 
that  was  theirs." 

"  I  know  these  things,  for  even  Cristoval  Colon  would 
never  have  got  the  blessing  of  the  pope  or  consent  of  the 
crown,  if  a  whisper  had  been  let  fall  of  his  Jew  ancestry." 


THE    TRIAL    OF   THE    FAITH 

"  You  have  heard  that,  too?  "  whispered  Don  Rodrigo. 
"  It  is  still  unsafe  to  speak  of  it  —  the  Holy  Brotherhood 
smothered  that  knowledge  when  they  found  it,  for  Colon 
himself  was  a  good  Christian." 

"  Though  his  relations  were  burnt  as  Jews  in  Pont- 
evedra,"  said  Tristan.  "  I  have  seen  the  records." 

"  Then  forget  them  ere  another  sun  comes  up," 
warned  the  old  man  —  "that,  and  your  own  family 
might " 

"  Ah !  "  and  as  if  a  revelation  had  come  to  him  Tristan 
said,  "  Then  that  is  the  secret ;  I  am  a  Jew !  " 

"  You  are  not  a  Jew !  Your  mother  was  so  good  a 
Christian  she  was  as  a  saint.  My  brother  loved  her,  too, 
but  Fernando  won  her.  You  have  read,  perhaps,  the 
name  of  Abarbanel." 

"  The  very  learned  Jew  who  was  banished?  " 

"  Yes,  your  mother  was  of  that  blood,  exiled  from 
Spain.  In  Morocco  they  made  marriages  with  the 
priestly  Kahn  class,  but  her  father  married  a  Christian. 
The  father  saved  Fernan  and  my  brother,  Pedro,  and, 
dying,  asked  one  favor  —  that  his  daughter  Dolores  be 
brought  away  from  the  land  of  the  Moors.  They  brought 
her  —  smuggled  somehow,  with  her  ropes  of  jewels 
worn  under  the  dress  of  a  serving  maid.  It  was  the  great 
adventure.  Up  in  the  hills  of  Antequera  Fernan  found 
a  priest,  and  Pedro  was  their  marriage  witness.  Up 
there  Fernan  hid  her,  but  the  jewels  made  trouble.  A 
few  were  sold  —  and  one  was  a  famous  gorget,  a  royal 
gem.  The  crown  and  the  Brotherhood  went  on  the  trail, 
for  the  family  holding  those  trinkets  had  been  sentenced 
to  perpetual  exile;  also  the  officers  had  stripped  those 
exiles  of  gold  and  lands  and  jewel  casket,  and  then  woke 


n6     THE    HOUSE    OF   THE    DAWN 

up  to  find  the  casket  held  only  imitations.  So  it  was  a 
serious  matter;  the  jewels  had  been  claimed  for  the 
crown  and  the  crown  had  been  cheated.  It  may  be  your 
mother  did  not  even  know  of  this  until  the  search  for 
her  was  taken  up.  She  was  hidden  with  you,  in  many 
places  —  even  in  hill  caves  —  and  hunted  out.  Then 
Pedro  took  you,  and  Fernan  strove  to  go  north  with  her 
and  take  ship.  Well,  there  was  another  child,  and  she 
went  to  God  on  the  Galician  shore,  and  her  babe  went 
with  her.  Yes,  she  was  Christian,  but  she  had  the  blood 
of  Jewish  priests,  and  her  family  was  so  strong  that  no 
member  was  to  ever  set  foot  on  ground  of  Catholic 
Spain.  She  was  only  a  child  in  those  days,  and  Fernan 
was  only  a  boy;  they  thought  the  Brotherhood  would 
take  no  note  of  one  little  child  woman  —  but  they  did 
not  know !  " 

"  Does  Luiza  know?  " 

"  Nothing  but  what  she  may  think  —  and  that  is  that 
you  were  no  doubt  of  our  family.  Her  first  husband 
gave  credit  to  me,  as  I  was  the  one  bachelor  among  us. 
He  was  planning  to  make  some  money  by  holding  my 
secret,  when  the  devil  took  him." 

"  Then  I  am  a  Jew,"  said  Tristan  again. 

"  Don't  say  it !  "  begged  Don  Rodrigo.  "Fernan  and 
your  mother  were  good  Christians  ever." 

"  But  my  blood  is  Jewish  —  my  brain  is  Jewish.  It 
is  like  a  curtain  lifted!  It  gave  me  the  hunger  for  the 
study  of  the  gods  of  the  pagans ;  I  wonder,  Don  Rodrigo, 
if  I  searched  for  the  unknown  god  because  I  was  search 
ing  the  way  back  to  the  god  of  the  ancient  Kahns  —  for 
that  was  a  royal  house,  and  its  symbol  was  the  serpent 
of  wisdom,  also  there  is  the  same  name  in  the  sky  gods 


THE   TRIAL    OF   THE   FAITH 

of  these  people,  and  the  symbol  is  the  same.  It  is  a 
priestly  caste." 

"  God  forbid  you  should  go  deeper  into  such  abomina 
tions  for  the  reason  that  I  tell  you  of  your  Jewish 
blood!  "  groaned  Don  Rodrigo.  "  Yes,  it  was  blood  of 
power,  too  much  power  to  please  the  kings  of  Spain. 
Also,  jewels  to  outshine  an  ambitious  queen  are  dan 
gerous  possessions." 

"  Then  why  should  Marco  shout  '  baseborn '  at  me?  " 
demanded  Tristan,  but  the  old  man  reached  out  his  hand 
in  pleading. 

"  He  does  not  know ;  he  is  an  angry  child  with  a  lost 
toy,  and  blames  you,  perhaps.  But  Tristan,  your  two 
fathers  loved,  and  starved,  and  shared  prison  together. 
He  can  never  be  told  that.  Are  you  big  enough,  Tristan, 
to  know  it  all  and  hide  it,  and  not  be  hurt  by  his  words?  " 

"  I  would  rather  tell  the  truth  in  the  plaza  for  all  to 
hear,"  said  Tristan.  "  Am  I  to  show  shame  of  my  blood 
when  kings  of  old  were  proud  of  it?  " 

But  Don  Rodrigo  caught  his  hands,  and  begged  him 
to  unsay  the  words. 

"  Your  friends  will  be  caught  in  the  toils  as  well  as 
you  if  ever  the  Holy  Brotherhood  should  add  you  to  the 
suspected  heretics,"  he  reminded.  "  You  are  safe 
as  was  your  father  under  the  wing  of  the  church,  but 
only  the  monk's  robe  saved  him  at  the  last.  Remember 
these  things,  Tristan.  No  drop  of  Jewish  blood  was 
in  him,  and  no  heresy ;  yet  he  had  to  live  in  shadow  and 
silence  because  he  had  fathered  the  son  of  the  house  of 
exiles.  We  guarded  you  as  a  child,  Tristan.  He  left 
you  to  me.  You  would  not  undo  the  work  of  his  life  for 
your  safety?  " 


u8     THE    HOUSE    OF    THE    DAWN 

"  No  —  I  will  not  do  that.  But  silence  is  bitter ;  I  am 
proud  of  the  truth,  yet  must  act  shame." 

"  For  my  sake,  Tristan,  the  sake  of  an  old  man.  And 
what  of  your  quarrel  with  Marco?  " 

"  I  would  do  him  no  ill  except  as  he  earns  it.  He  is 
much  to  you,  I  know,  but  give  him  a  word  that  will 
warn  him  if  ever  I  need  lift  hand  to  him  again." 

"  And  you  are  not  cast  down  at  the  word  I  have  given 
you?  "  asked  the  old  man. 

"  I  ?  You  have  opened  a  window  for  a  dark  soul ! 
Don  Rodrigo,  I  have  entered  this  day  into  a  royal  heri 
tage,  and  I  have  learned  why  my  mother  called  me  the 
name  of  sadness." 

Then  Don  Rodrigo  told  him  there  were  some  family 
records  among  Don  Fernando's  papers;  they  would 
show  him  the  ancestry  of  his  Christian  family.  And 
with  some  kindly  words,  the  old  man  wearily  turned  his 
head  on  the  pillow,  and  fell  asleep,  worn  out  by  the  doing 
of  the  task  he  had  long  promised  to  do  when  the  time 
came. 

The  resentment  against  Marco  seemed  to  slip  out  of 
Tristan's  mind,  when  he  learned  how  very  ignorant  he 
had  been  of  all  the  truth  —  also  how  senselessly  jealous. 

I  had  been  told  of  the  scandal  at  the  palace,  so  I  was 
waiting  outside  at  a  word  from  Luiza,  and  when  the  door 
opened,  and  Tristan  came  into  the  street,  his  face  held  all 
the  radiance  of  a  new  day.  He  walked  beside  me,  scarce 
heeding  my  blundering  attempts  to  explain  Marco  and 
his  jealous  furies. 

"  That  will  look  after  itself,"  he  said ;  "  she  has  him 
frantic  that  she  seeks  importance  for  him  elsewhere 
than  at  the  palace.  It  was  easy  for  him  to  believe  I  had 


THE    TRIAL    OF    THE    FAITH       119 

her  ear;  he  could  not  see  it  was  Anita  with  whom  I 
spoke." 

"But  the  insult?" 

"  It  was  an  ignorant  one  —  for  which  I  may  yet  give 
him  the  sound  thrashing  he  well  earned.  Yet,  for  the 
sake  of  Don  Rodrigo,  I  might  find  myself  doing  him  a 
favor  after  the  thrashing!  The  old  man  has  been  my 
friend  this  day.  I  would  do  much  to  make  his  days  con 
tent,  there  may  not  be  so  many  of  them." 

There  was  not  in  his  face  a  sign  of  the  anger  from 
which  the  group  at  the  palace  had  shrunk  away,  and  I 
had  my  own  wonder  as  to  how  a  man  could,  for  anyone, 
show  favor  after  such  an  insult.  But  I  was  soon  to 
learn  this,  and  other  things.  Marco  de  Ordono  was  only 
a  spoiled  and  petted  child,  yet  out  of  his  jealous  whims 
came  tragic  things  to  all  of  us,  and  that  encounter  in 
the  court  was  but  the  beginning. 

Dona  Perfecta  had  her  own  tasks  to  explain  why  two 
men  quarreled  under  her  window.  Even  Don  Eduardo 
was  aroused  to  an  interest  in  this,  and  there  would  have 
been  an  arrest  of  Tristan,  but  for  the  desire  to  let  the 
matter  go  quietly  to  sleep. 

But  again  did  Marco  and  his  jealousy  prevent.  Notes 
were  exchanged,  and  Dona  Perfecta,  with  intent  to 
prevail  upon  him  that  he  follow  quickly  after  the  colon 
ists,  gave  him  secret  audience  of  which  only  Anita  was 
witness.  That  poor  child  was  desperate  with  her  own 
secret,  as  was  learned  later,  and  eager  to  go  where 
Tristan  might  not  follow. 

However  they  planned  it,  there  was  some  lack  of 
cleverness,  and  some  hand  to  write  a  note  of  warning 
to  Don  Tomas ;  the  viceregal  palace  was  used  for 


120     THE    HOUSE    OF    THE    DAWN 

rendezvous  which  might  make  scandals  for  the  future. 
That  writer  was  never  known,  but  I  suspected  the  man 
who  would  have  liked  to  hold  the  office  of  secretary, 
instead  of  Don  Eduardo. 

The  first  I  knew  of  it  was  a  note  to  Tristan  without 
signature. 

If  you  have  power  such  as  is  thought  at  the  palace,  the 
nephew  of  Don  Rodrigo  is  in  danger  there,  in  the  room  of  a 
lady,  and  the  order  has  come  to  post  extra  guard  tonight. 

Tristan  read  it,  and  looked  at  the  time. 

"  The  guard  is  changed  in  a  few  minutes,  that  will  be 
the  time,"  he  said.  "  In  the  rooms  of  a  lady  —  that  means 
she  either  wants  him  caught,  or  urges  him  to  leave  the 
city.  In  either  case  —  " 

He  girded  the  old  robe  about  him,  the  cowl  over  his 
face,  and  was  out  into  the  darkness  before  the  thought 
was  voiced. 

In  either  case,  it  was  the  viceroy  who  was  alert  instead 
of  the  husband.  That  posting  of  the  guard  had  its  own 
significance.  Ernesto  Galvez  was  of  the  guard,  and  was 
a  friend  of  Don  Rodrigo.  Evidently  he  did  not  want 
Dona  Mercedes  in  any  way  concerned  with  a  message. 

It  was  not  until  later  I  had  time  to  think  this  out,  for 
at  that  time  I  could  only  tag  at  the  heels  of  Tristan,  and 
see  him  enter  by  the  gate  of  the  garden.  Then  I  strolled 
to  the  back  to  take  note  of  guards  and  saw  none,  only 
three  horses  held  by  a  young  fellow  who  gave  but  un 
gracious  greeting  as  I  passed  him  in  the  darkness. 

I  had  but  reached  the  corner  when  a  figure  in  robe  and 
cowl  came  flying  out  of  the  gate. 


THE    TRIAL    OF    THE    FAITH       121 

"  Up !  "  he  said  to  the  youth  holding  the  horses.  "  Up 
and  away  ere  he  finds  you !  I  have  the  pass." 

Whereupon  they  both  tumbled  into  saddles,  and  went 
into  darkness,  and  while  I  thought  the  voice  was  that 
of  Marco,  it  is  not  easy  to  tell  of  a  voice  by  a  whisper, 
and  I  was  frozen  with  dread  lest  I  had  seen  the  escape 
of  Dona  Perfecta,  and  her  most  troublesome  favorite, 
and  the  scandal  would  be  great. 

The  echo  of  the  horse  hoofs  had  scarce  ended  when  a 
troop  of  men  filed  along  the  wall.  From  the  other 
side  of  the  narrow  street  I  could  hear  one  laugh,  "  What 
sort  of  night  bird,  think  you,  we  spread  the  net  for?" 
he  asked. 

There  was  no  answer,  for  at  that  moment  a  door 
opened  in  the  wall  at  the  back,  and  a  light  from  the 
garden  came  through,  and  in  the  light  stood  Tristan 
as  he  stepped  quickly  out  to  the  darkness. 

But  not  quick  enough,  for  from  each  side  a  guard 
moved.  I  was  standing  square  in  the  light ;  it  was  dim, 
yet  enough  to  show  him  my  face,  and  with  a  hurtling 
run  he  staggered  back  the  guard  and  leaped  across  the 
space  to  me.  I  could  only  stare,  for  it  was  as  if  he 
meant  to  assault  me  that  he  plunged  forward ;  and,  step 
ping  back,  I  did  trip  and  fall,  and  he  dropped  beside 
me. 

It  surely  looked  to  the  others  as  if  he  had  stumbled 
over  me,  but  his  knee  touched  the  ground  only  enough 
for  the  ruse,  and  his  hand  was  on  my  breast,  and  under 
my  cloak  was  thrust  a  flat  small  packet,  filling  me  with 
fear. 

Then  he  arose,  and  the  guards  were  upon  him,  and  he 
laughed  as  he  turned  to  walk  with  them. 


122     THE    HOUSE    OF    THE    DAWN 

"  You  are  wrong,  my  friends,"  he  said.  "  I  am  not 
a  brigand  that  you  need  arms  to  take  me,  now  I  know 
who  you  are.  I  deemed  you  highwaymen  when  I  sought 
to  leap  clear  of  you." 

They  led  him  away  for  all  that,  and  I  followed,  at  a 
distance,  past  the  palace,  where  naught  was  to  be 
learned.  A  word  with  Dona  Mercedes  showed  me  she 
was  panic  stricken,  Dona  Perfecta  knew  nothing,  or 
would  tell  nothing. 

And  I,  failing  to  see  Tristan  or  learn  aught  at  the 
prison,  made  my  way  back  to  bed  and  tossed,  sleepless, 
until  morning,  with  the  little  packet  under  my  pillow. 
He  had  uttered  no  word  to  me,  but  I  knew  that  the  glove 
I  had  coveted  was  at  last  in  my  keeping  —  yet  no 
pleasure  came  with  it. 

The  viceroy  had  not  caught  the  man  he  hoped,  and 
someone  had  to  pay  for  that.  I  do  not  think  in  the 
beginning  he  would  have  given  special  thought  to  the 
affair  of  Tristan,  had  Dona  Perfecta  not  lost  her  head. 
But  she  was  more  than  a  little  amazed  to  learn  that 
while  Marco  had  escaped,  it  had  not  been  alone.  Anita 
Gomez  was  also  gone,  and  Luiza  in  the  first  fright,  had 
asked  concerning  Marco,  whereupon  others  about  the 
palace  remembered  many  things!  Dona  Perfecta  was 
quite  happy  over  this  matter  of  Anita.  It  made  clear  all 
the  jealousy  of  Marco  —  it  was  Anita  with  whom  Tris 
tan  talked  back  of  the  lattice,  and  was  the  plain  cause  of 
the  quarrel,  and  so  on,  and  so  on ! 

All  was  fish  to  her  net,  and  the  going  of  Anita  was  to 
her  a  blessing  sent  by  the  angels. 

And  then  the  real  thunderbolt  fell,  and  her  little 
power  dwindled  until  she  was  frantic.  Just  as  she 


THE    TRIAL    OF    THE    FAITH       123 

had  planned  how  to  appear  as  a  guardian  angel  to  Tris 
tan,  and  thus  make  him  her  debtor  forever,  a  stronger 
hand  than  hers  was  laid  upon  him,  and  beyond  that  was 
terror  and  sickness  of  heart  for  all  of  us. 

For  Mateo  Gomez  went  to  confession. 

That  sounds  as  slight  a  thing  as  that  Marco  had  shown 
jealous  temper. 

Yet  all  these  lives  were  entwined  until  I  began  to 
think  no  look  or  word  was  without  weight,  and  the 
confession  of  Mateo  was  a  weighty  matter  indeed.  It 
placed  a  guard  at  the  door  of  Don  Rodrigo,  and  gave  a 
definite  charge  against  Tristan,  who  had  failed  to  accuse 
himself  of  the  evil  of  Jewish  blood! 

And  poor  Luiza,  who  retired  to  pray  during  that  con 
fession  of  Don  Rodrigo,  had  given  no  thought  that 
Mateo  was  in  bed  in  the  adjoining  room,  and  was,  in  one 
hour,  more  important  in  the  eyes  of  the  Inquisition  than 
ever  before  in  his  entire  life. 

Don  Rodrigo  was  questioned  by  the  officers,  and  came 
near  to  dying  at  the  first  shock,  then  braced  himself  like 
an  old  soldier  facing  a  charge  and  told  all,  as  Mateo  had 
heard.  The  people  were  all  dead  —  his  brother  Pedro, 
his  friend,  Fernando  Alcatraz,  and  the  Christian  girl, 
Dolores  Maria  Kahn.  Yes,  many  jewels  had  been  in 
her  hands,  so  he  had  been  told,  and  because  of  that 
hidden  wealth,  she  had  been  searched  for  until  she 
died,  so  he  had  heard,  and  his  brother  who  would  have 
wedded  her  but  that  Fernando  had  her  love,  was  their 
friend  while  he  lived,  and  hid  the  child  for  them.  Jewels 
and  books  also  he  hid,  for  the  father  of  Dolores  was  very 
learned,  and  a  great  collector  of  knowledge,  and  the 
books  were  for  the  son  of  his  daughter  if  there  should  be 


i24     THE    HOUSE    OF   THE    DAWN 

one,  for  he  believed  that  the  God  of  Moses  would  in 
time  lead  his  people  into  peace,  and  they  must  know  the 
records  of  their  race  and  their  clans. 

No,  Don  Rodrigo  knew  not  what  had  been  the  end  of 
the  books.  Pedro  had  them  in  charge  in  Spain,  but 
Pedro  died.  It  might  be  Fernando  could  have  told,  but 
Fernando  also  was  dead,  and  as  for  the  boy  —  how  could 
he  be  blamed  for  all  this  of  which  he  knew  nothing?  He 
had  not  even  known  the  name  of  either  father  or  mother. 

So  all  at  once  everybody  knew  at  least  that  Marco  was 
wrong  —  for  a  Kahn  and  an  Abarbanel  could  not  be 
base  in  caste,  however  evil  their  souls  might  be  through 
following  the  dead  laws  of  Moses  and  ignoring  the  sanc 
tified  path  to  the  new  dispensation. 

With  all  the  help  of  Dona  Perfecta,  who  was  most 
willing  to  help,  I  could  get  no  glimpse  or  speech  with 
Tristan  other  than  to  look  on,  as  all  the  town  did,  at 
the  procession  of  the  penitents  for  the  mass  at  San  Fran 
cisco,  and  even  there  the  guard  encouraged  no  discourse. 
But  I  could  see  him  —  walking  strong  and  with  head 
high  held.  All  the  moody  dark  was  gone  from  his  face. 
At  last  the  mystery  was  over ;  he  knew  now  the  reasons 
he  had  been  hidden  under  a  strange  name,  and  there 
was  a  most  unchristian  pride  in  his  glance. 

Dona  Mercedes  whispered  a  prayer  as  she  gazed. 

"  It  is  as  though  he  welcomed  martyrdom,"  she  whis 
pered.  "  What  is  in  his  heart  that  he  walks  like  that?  " 

"  It  is  the  thought  of  his  people,  and  his  pride  to 
know  of  them,"  I  said,  and  I  read  him  truly  in  that. 

"  But  he  is  Christian  —  he  wears  a  rosary,"  persisted 
Dona  Perfecta. 

"  Yet  he  has  uttered  heretical  words  according  to 


THE    TRIAL    OF    THE    FAITH      125 

report,"  said  Don  Eduardo.  "  His  statement  that  the 
tribes  of  the  deserts  have  no  devil  and  get  along  very 
well  without  one  has  been  discussed  with  much  feeling, 
and  you  perhaps  have  not  heard  of  his  statement  that 
our  blessed  Lord  lived  a  Jew  and  died  a  Jew." 

"  Does  he  dare  to  argue  in  words  like  that  in  the  very 
shadow  of  death?  "  gasped  his  wife.  "  If  he  were  a 
saint  from  heaven  he  could  not  hope  for  help." 

So  thought  we  all,  and  wondered  much  that  there 
was  no  word  of  torture;  for  they  were  suddenly  con 
necting  this  with  the  Lispano  matter,  through  Fray 
Fernando,  but  for  reasons  of  their  own  did  not  press  this. 
And  that  Tristan  wore  the  rosary  of  Don  Fernando  was 
made  clear,  with  no  attempt  at  secrecy.  It  had  been 
found  on  the  drowned  body  and  entrusted  to  Don  Payo ; 
this  could  be  verified  when  a  ship  sailed. 

But  under  the  tiles  in  the  cell  of  Fray  Fernando  there 
were  found  some  curious  things,  very  puzzling.  There 
were  books,  and  there  were  records  of  note:  the  two 
century  old  list  of  the  outfitting  of  the  first  expedition 
to  the  Indies,  and  the  names  of  the  various  Jews  who 
furnished  the  money  —  Santangel  and  Sanchez  at  the 
head  —  both  marranos,  though  high  in  affairs  of  state. 
Diego  de  Deza,  the  learned  theologian  of  Jewish  blood, 
who  had  Columbus  received  at  Salamanca.  There  was 
also  the  account  of  the  second  expedition,  financed  with 
Jewish  money  —  this  time,  however,  it  was  taken  in 
tribute  from  exiles.  The  list  was  very  long  and  com 
plete  in  its  devilish  intent,  and  proved  that  Jewish  gold 
opened  up  a  new  world,  and  that  there  had  been  no  royal 
gifts  from  the  crown ;  all  given  by  them  was  the  permit 
to  sail,  and  honors  if  the  navigator  earned  them. 


126     THE    HOUSE    OF    THE    DAWN 

These  were  things  long  whispered  of  but  never  before 
seen  in  writing  by  the  Inquisition  in  Mexico.  All  such 
records  were  thought  to  have  been  burned  by  the  faith 
ful.  Yet  here  it  was,  beside  a  copy  in  Latin  of  "  The 
Hope  of  Israel,"  by  Menasseh  ben  Israel.  This  con 
tained  a  devilish  record  of  native  Jews  among  the  Indians 
of  South  America,  and  part  of  the  contents  was  the 
copy  of  an  address  to  a  man  named  Cromwell,  in  an 
attempt  to  gain  freedom  for  Jews  to  abide  in  England. 

All  this  was  a  firebrand,  indeed!  But  Tristan  told 
gladly  all  the  officers  of  the  Inquisition  had  to  ask.  He 
had  read  this  record  as  he  read  every  record  telling  him 
aught  of  the  origin  of  the  tribes  of  America.  If  they 
came  from  ancient  Jews,  then  it  should  be  an  easier  task 
to  learn  their  histories.  He  confessed  that  he  did  not 
himself  believe  the  tribes  were,  or  ever  had  been,  Jews 
—  it  was  even  easier  to  think  that  these  Indians  were  the 
older  people. 

"  What  meaning  had  your  impious  words  of  the  dead 
tribes  of  Israel  and  the  false  gods  of  these  red  Indios?  " 
demanded  the  prosecutor,  and  all  who  heard  were  sure 
at  last  that  Tristan  could  have  no  chance,  for  his  inter 
est  in  the  pagan  creed  was  known  to  be  great. 

"  I  do  not  recall  what  I  said,  holy  father,  but  I  knew 
the  Kahns  were  a  priestly  caste  —  that  even  kings  had 
been  known  to  change  records  that  they  might  claim 
descent  from  them,  the  highest.  Also  that  word,  '  kan,' 
means  the  sky  and  the  things  of  the  sky  to  certain  of 
these  tribes,  and  their  priest-kings  use  it  also  in  their 
names.  It  seems  the  pagan  mind  goes  ever  to  the  sky, 
and  the  sun,  and  the  stars,  for  their  god-thoughts.  To 
me  it  was  strange  they  should  thus  use  the  word  by 


THE    TRIAL    OF   THE    FAITH      127 

which  the  family  of  Aaron,  the  high  priest,  was  called ; 
these  have  also  their  high  priests,  who,  after  death,  they 
pray  to  as  gods,  and  know  by  that  sky  name ! " 

And  Tristan  was  so  suddenly  interested  in  tracing 
these  strange  links  of  human  thought,  that  he  was  eager 
as  a  boy  to  follow  a  game,  and  forgot  he  was  on  trial 
for  his  faith  and  his  life  until  the  prosecutor  frowned, 
and  pointed  to  the  dangerous  volume  of  Menasseh  ben. 
Israel. 

"  Did  you  not  know  you  committed  the  deadly  sin 
by  application  to  the  works  of  a  heretic?  "  he  demanded.. 

"  Holy  father,  much  of  my  work  for  three  years  has 
been  making  records  of  the  pagan  beliefs  here  for  the 
archbishop.  Thus  was  I  ever  delving  in  heretical  ma 
terial  and  constantly  adding  all  I  might  to  my  knowl 
edge.  Some  saintly  priests  have  done  the  same  and 
were  not  questioned." 

This  of  course  was  a  fact,  for  under  Fray  Payo  free 
dom  of  a  sort  had  flourished. 

"  Do  you  not  know,"  thundered  the  prosecutor,  "  that 
your  inheritance  of  blood  has  given  you  a  pernicious 
tendency  to  read  evil  into  the  records  where  a  Christian 
would  read  good?" 

"  I  have  not  been  conscious  of  the  evil." 

"  Do  you  deny  the  Jew  blood  animating  you?  " 

"  No,  holy  father,  they  tell  me  I  have  it,  and  it  is  a 
new  matter  to  me.  My  parents  were  Christian." 

"  You  deny  the  Jewish  blood?  " 

"  How  can  I  ?  You  have  there  my  family  records. 
You  can  prove  me  the  same  amount  of  Jewish  ancestry 
as  possessed  by  Christoval  Colon  of  Galicia,  but  that 
blood  gave  us  this  kingdom." 


128     THE    HOUSE    OF    THE    DAWN 

"  That  is  a  claim  of  the  iniquitous  Jews." 

"  I  never  have  heard  it  made  by  one ;  for  two  centuries 
they  have  hidden  all  they  knew  of  the  records,  and  the 
crown  feared  the  anger  of  the  pope  if  it  was  made  clear. 
Even  Spain  had  to  think  of  what  the  world  would  say 
if  it  took  a  new  world  by  the  hand  of  one  Jew,  and  at 
the  same  time  drove  his  brothers  into  exile." 

"  And  this  has  been  the  training  you  have  had  at  the 
hands  of  Fray  Fernando,  and  by  the  sanction  of  Fray 
Payo,"  said  the  priest  coldly.  "  These  records  will  go 
.to  Spain  for  his  reading.  We  will  see  what  the  ship 
brings  back.  You  will  wait  that  coming  in  prison." 

There  was  much  wonder  at  such  leniency  and  long 
waiting,  though  the  fact  was  that  the  revival  of  the 
Lispano  affair  in  connection  with  Don  Fernando  had 
aroused  doubt  as  to  the  sound  doctrine  of  other  friends 
of  the  Lispanos.  While  the  ship  took  letters  of  inquiry 
to  Fray  Payo  in  Spain,  there  would  be  many  months  in 
which  to  observe  Tristan  and  the  people  who  would 
seek  to  favor  him.  He  was  the  first  key  they  had  found 
to  secrets  they  suspected,  and  the  Holy  Brotherhood  had 
no  intent  to  wear  out  the  key  ere  the  door  was  found. 
The  ecclesiastical  mind  had  decided,  to  its  humiliation, 
that  Fray  Fernando  had  lived  a  double  life  under  their 
eyes,  with  his  own  son  under  his  guidance.  The  fact 
that  Tristan  had  not  known  it  was,  in  a  way,  in  his 
favor.  Yet  it  all  made  a  direful  buzzing  and  all  the  books 
found  under  the  tiles  of  Fray  Fernando's  cell  were  sent 
under  seal  to  the  church  of  San  Francisco  to  await  the 
final  trial  of  Tristan. 

In  the  excitement  of  those  days,  the  arrest  of  Tristan 
in  the  palace  garden  was  all  but  forgotten,  or  if  remem- 


THE   TRIAL   OF   THE   FAITH      129 

bered,  no  separate  cause  was  assigned  to  it  —  the  Holy 
Brotherhood  took  its  victims  wherever  they  were  to  be 
found.  All  smaller  matters  were  swallowed  up  in  the 
greater,  and  the  going  of  Marco  and  Anita  was  but  an 
episode  to  all  but  poor  Luiza. 

That  good  soul  was  in  torture  over  all  —  the  righteous 
act  of  Mateo,  and  the  unrighteous  words  of  Tristan  as 
they  were  repeated  to  her  by  hearers,  the  child  Anita  out 
in  the  world  of  wilderness,  and  the  honored  Don  Rodrigo 
at  the  door  of  death  in  her  house. 

He  never  rallied  after  that  first  examination.  He  was 
reprimanded  for  heretical  silence  on  a  matter  belong 
ing  to  the  confessional,  and  it  may  be  he  saw  in  his  mind 
the  dispersion  of  the  treasure  he  had  been  five  exiled 
years  garnering. 

Be  that  as  it  may,  he  called  a  priest  and  an  alcalde, 
and  arranged  his  will,  in  which  good  "Luiza  was  provided 
for,  and  the  rest  of  his  belongings  divided  between 
Marco  and  Tristan,  the  son  of  his  friend.  To  me  he  left 
a  good  gift,  and  named  me  as  executor,  and  then,  as 
though  in  the  dread  of  what  he  might  yet  have  to  face, 
he  turned  to  the  wall,  and  spoke  no  more. 

And  I,  a  lad  not  twenty,  was  alone  in  the  big  world  of 
exiles  with  but  one  friend  of  the  old  days  left  alive  near 
me,  and  the  walls  of  a  prison  about  him. 

I  took  up  my  abode  with  Luiza  after  that,  though  it 
irked  me  to  meet  Mateo  there.  Yet  he  kept  his  distance, 
and  it  rested  her  heart  to  have  one  of  the  family  to 
wait  upon.  Weeks  went  by  like  that  —  waiting  what 
would  chance  Tristan,  and  waiting  news  from  the  north. 
The  little  we  had  from  there  was  ill  news,  for  Anita  was 
unused  to  hard  travel,  and  their  first  week  on  the  trail 


130     THE    HOUSE    OF    THE    DAWN 

had  given  her  illness,  yet  were  they  pushing  on  to  join 
the  cavalcade. 

"  It  is  as  well  Tristan  does  not  know,"  said  Luiza, 
"  else  bars  would  scarce  hold  him.  He  warned  us  and 
we  would  not  see." 

As  well  as  I  could,  I  tried  to  comfort  her ;  since  Marco 
had  stolen  the  girl  for  all  the  world  to  know,  he  would 
do  what  a  Christian  might,  short  of  wedding  her  —  for 
there  was  Sancha  back  in  Spain ! 

I  had  my  own  quandaries  those  days,  but  in  the  midst 
of  them  was  allowed  the  grace  long  asked  for,  that  I 
might  provide  the  meals  for  Tristan  in  prison.  So  I 
hid  the  letters  and  the  glove,  and  went  gladly  forth  to 
visit. 

As  I  expected,  they  searched  me  well,  and  I  knew 
they  would  set  a  watch  lest  I  left,  or  carried  away,  a 
message.  But  Tristan  asked  only  of  the  death  of  Don 
Rodrigo,  and  such  matters  of  family.  He  had  known 
the  old  man  would  not  recover,  and  was  grateful  that 
he  had  lived  to  tell  the  truth,  and  had  the  courage  to 
tell  it. 

"  And  Marco?  he  got  away?  "  he  asked. 

"  Yes,  he  got  away,"  I  said,  and  professed  to  have 
heard  nothing  more. 

"  It  will  not  be  so  long  a  time  now  until  a  new  ship 
comes  in,"  he  observed. 

"  No,"  I  said,  "  and  so  eager  am  I  for  news  that  I  will 
ride  down  the  valley  myself  when  the  word  comes." 

He  smiled  on  me  at  that,  and  understood.  Despite  the 
guard,  we  had  spoken  our  message. 

Then  the  Brotherhood  regretted  that  an  able  man 
should  be  idle  when  there  was  work  to  do,  and  at  a  hint 


THE   TRIAL    OF   THE    FAITH      131 

from  Fray  Bernardino,  Tristan  was  given  sentence  to 
perform  certain  labors  calculated  to  enlighten  his  soul 
until  the  final  sentence.  Fray  Bernardino  was  yet  occu 
pied  with  the  chapel  decorations  and  needed  a  helper.  If 
Tristan  was  indeed  a  Christian,  he  had  his  chance  to 
prove  it  with  one  not  to  be  deceived,  for  it  was  a  picture 
of  the  Virgin  he  was  to  paint,  and  it  was  his  great  chance. 

There  were  many  prophecies  and  prognostications 
over  this.  The  more  devout  anticipated  nothing  less 
than  a  paralysis  if  he  was  allowed  to  attempt  it.  But 
Fray  Bernardino  had  a  good  word  to  say  of  his  craft, 
and  of  the  money  it  would  save  if  he  succeeded.  Even 
though  he  failed,  no  harm  would  be  done  beyond  what 
prayers  to  Our  Lady  would  cure  again. 

But  that  he  did  not  fail,  the  picture  is  there  to  testify, 
and  after  the  work  was  entered  upon,  Tristan  went  into 
it  with  all  his  soul.  There  is  no  doubt  that  he  felt  it 
was  his  last  work  for  earth,  as  he  was  not  lulled  into 
hope  by  the  special  leniency  shown  him.  However 
that  was,  the  word  went  out  that  he  had  assumed  the 
task  and  no  eye  but  his  must  rest  on  the  work  until 
ended  —  then  they  could  hang  or  burn  him  as  they 
elected,  but  he  would  have  done  the  one  picture  in  his 
heart. 

Dona  Perfecta  tried  by  all  means  to  see  it,  but  was 
told  it  was  more  than  a  penance  put  upon  him  —  it  was 
the  work  of  a  vow  upon  which  none  could  intrude.  So 
there  was  much  wonder  and  expectation. 

"  How  comes  it  that  whether  behind  prison  walls, 
or  ranging  free,  there  is  no  one  like  this  priest's  son 
to  keep  everyone  at  question?"  demanded  Dona  Per 
fecta.  "  It  has  not  been  the  custom  to  give  prisoners  the 


132     THE    HOUSE    OF    THE    DAWN 

liberty  of  deciding  who  shall  look  in  upon  them,  and  his 
heretical  argument  makes  it  doubly  strange." 

"  Have  no  fear,"  said  her  husband.  "  They  suffer 
him  many  privileges  that  they  may  catch  his  heretical 
friends  in  the  net  ere  the  end  comes.  His  art  alone  is 
no  excuse  for  leniency.  The  Holy  Brotherhood  is  not 
napping.  They  are  busy  on  records  left  behind  by  Don 
Payo.  No  priest  of  any  order  since  Bernardino  de 
Sahagun  has  given  such  countenance  to  heretical  knowl 
edge  of  the  false  gods." 

"And  what  was  the  end  of  De  Sahagun?" 

"  He  was  discountenanced  by  his  own  order,  and  all 
obstacles  placed  in  his  way  by  the  church.  Not  until  he 
was  eighty  was  he  allowed  to  translate  his  papers  on  the 
pagan  gods,  and  all  the  translation  disappeared  after  his 
death." 

"  But  Fray  Payo,  as  archbishop,  had  more  power  than 
a  mere  priestly  student." 

"  It  remains  to  be  seen  how  far  that  power  can  reach. 
All  these  mysteries  of  Fray  Fernando,  and  the  Lispanos, 
and  the  heretical  books,  came  into  Mexico  some  way 
while  Fray  Payo  was  at  the  head  of  affairs.  Also  it  is 
shown  that  he  was  told  the  place  of  the  death  of  Fray 
Fernando,  yet  kept  silence.  The  Council  of  the  Indies 
will  hear  all  of  this,  and  the  curious  encouragement 
granted  to  heretical  scholars  may  even  yet  cause  strange 
echoes  for  the  ears  of  Fray  Payo !  It  is  not  for  nothing 
this  free-tongued  painter  is  granted  rope  to  hang  him 
self  and  perhaps  others  more  exalted." 

Dona  Mercedes  turned  pale  as  she  looked  at  me,  and 
slipped  her  hand  into  that  of  Ernesto.  Those  two  had 
been  wedded  the  week  after  Marco's  flight. 


THE    TRIAL    OF   THE    FAITH 

"  You  think,  then,  there  is  still  danger  that  Tristan 
be  put  to  the  final  test?  "  she  asked. 

"  Say,  rather,  there  is  still  hope  for  it,"  corrected  Don 
Eduardo.  "  What  else  would  you  have  for  an  apostate 
who  hesitates  not  to  say  that  Columbus  and  the  Virgin, 
and  the  Son  of  the  Virgin  were  one  and  all  of  Jewish 
blood?" 

"  It  is  of  course  an  abomination,  and  to  be  deplored," 
she  acknowledged.  "  It  would  have  saved  many  lives 
if  God  the  Father  had  chosen  a  virgin  of  another  people." 

"  What  are  fleshly  lives  compared  with  souls?  "  asked 
Don  Eduardo.  "  To  me  it  seems  your  mind  is  wander 
ing  in  strange  and  forbidden  conjectures." 

"  It  is  in  the  air,"  said  Ernesto.  "  People  are  talking 
of  religions  who  never  talked  before.  Tristan,  with  his 
open  statements,  has  started  it  going,  and  the  saints 
alone  know  what  the  end  will  be !  But  it  is  true,  I  think, 
the  Brotherhood  permits  it  for  this  time,  and  with  a 
purpose!  The  end  for  Tristan  will  be  the  stake  when 
they  have  netted  his  friends." 

"  And  you  are  openly  his  friend  even  now,"  said  Dona 
Mercedes  to  me.  "  Have  you  no  fear?  " 

"  I  have  indeed,  for  him,"  I  agreed,  "  yet  of  his  dan 
gerous  opinions  I  have  no  part.  Don  Rodrigo  had  love 
for  Don  Fernando  though  he  married  a  maid  of  for 
bidden  descent.  It  is  said  that  Abarbanel  was  of  the 
strain  of  David,  and  the  Kahn  is  known  to  be  of  the 
caste  of  Aaron.  Yet  despite  this  friendship  of  Don 
Rodrigo  for  a  suspect,  he  lived  and  died  with  evil  to 
wards  no  man.  Why  not  I?  " 

"  You  may  not  die  so  happily,  if  you  show  approval 
of  this  heretic,  Tristan,"  warned  Don  Eduardo. 


i34     THE    HOUSE    OF    THE    DAWN 

"  But  I  do  not  approve !  I  deplore  and  shrink  from 
the  knowledge  he  has  acquired.  If  I  had  influence  I 
would  beg  him  to  forget  every  written  line  but  the  credo, 
and  urge  him  to  repeat  it  forever  for  the  love  of  God !  " 
and  I  all  but  wept  as  I  said  it,  knowing  as  I  did  that  Tris 
tan  would. rather  be  dead  in  the  flesh  than  limited  in 
range  of  the  mind. 

But  thus,  in  diverse  ways,  was  I  made  to  hear,  over 
and  over,  opinions  and  warnings,  many  for  my  own 
sake,  a  few,  I  hoped,  for  his.  I  felt  there  were  some  who 
sanctioned  in  him  that  which  they  never  could  imitate. 
Forgotten  ancestral  blood  within  them  clamored  un 
voiced  admiration  of  his  daring.  The  very  youth  of 
Tristan  must  have  emphasized  this,  though  I  heard  Fray 
Felipe  make  statement  that  it  was  no  youthful  soul,  but 
some  very  old  Jewish  demon,  who  spoke  through  his 
lips. 

So,  as  Dona  Perfecta  stated,  though  hidden  from  sight 
within  prison  walls,  the  spirit  of  him  caused  much  con 
troversy,  and  Dona  Perfecta  had  more  than  a  little 
anxiety  lest,  if  he  be  put  to  the  torture,  questions  might 
be  asked  as  to  the  night  of  arrest,  and  the  cause  of  his 
presence  there.  All  of  his  actions  would  be  given 
weight,  and  it  was  not  to  be  supposed  that  he  would  sac 
rifice  himself  for  Marco,  or  for  her,  a  second  time. 

Names  were  not  mentioned  by  Tristan  during  the 
brief  meetings  when  I  took  him  food  as  permitted.  In 
a  general  way  he  asked  of  the  outer  world,  yet  had  the 
quiet  content  of  a  soul  to  whom  the  world  is  not  neces 
sary. 

"  I  am  more  free  than  before,"  he  asserted  when  I 
asked  him  of  the  weary  days.  "  I  am  doing  the  same 


THE    TRIAL    OF   THE    FAITH     135 

sort  of  work,  yet  doing  it  better.  My  life  is  widened  by 
knowing  my  origin,  and  my  spirit  unfastened  its  bonds 
when  I  openly  took  the  burden  of  my  race,  and  felt  that 
others  were  not  bearing  my  part  of  the  load." 

"  But  how  can  you,  a  Christian,  feel  the  burden  of  a 
Jew?  "  I  asked  in  dismay  at  his  frankness. 

"  I  do  not  feel  it  as  to  creed ;  it  is  scarcely  under 
standable  in  its  many  sides.  Yet  it  has  nobleness,  else 
it  could  not  send  forth  both  a  Moses  and  a  Jesus.  Does 
the  spirit  of  God  descend  upon  a  mean  people?" 

I  could  not  answer,  for  I  was  oppressed  by  the  sense 
of  danger  to  him.  He  saw  it,  and  smiled. 

"  Go  you  out,  Juanito,  without  trouble  or  care  for 
me,"  he  said.  "  I  am  nearer  happiness  than  you  have 
ever  seen  me." 

Which  was  another  perplexing  thing  not  to  be  under 
stood  at  that  time,  for  at  that  time  I  had  neither  glimpse 
nor  thought  of  the  picture  to  be  done  as  a  test  and  a 
penance. 

Then  came  a  day  when  the  priests  were  let  in  to  view 
it,  and  the  viceroy  and  other  dignitaries.  Nuns  of  St. 
Dominic  were  there,  and  the  ladies  of  the  court,  and  all 
went  in  a  soft  rustle  to  their  knees  on  the  tiles  before 
the  chancel.  I  had  but  caught  glimpse  of  the  pictured 
summer  sky  —  blue  and  white  —  under  the  shadowy 
dome,  when  Dona  Perfecta,  beside  me,  twisted  her  fan 
until  I  heard  the  sticks  break. 

"  Santa  Maria !  "  she  whispered,  "  he  has  done  it  —  he 
has  painted  the  thing  he  grasped  at  in  the  sunbeam !  " 

"  He  has  done  the  impossible  thing,"  said  Dona  Mer 
cedes,  dropping  to  her  knees.  "  It  is  a  miracle  sent  as 
proof  of  a  holy  faith." 


136     THE    HOUSE    OF    THE    DAWN 

It  may  be  that  she  was  right.  As  she  knelt  I  saw 
over  her  head,  and  from  the  painted  sky  I  looked  to  the 
figure  of  the  virgin  in  white,  and  then  I  sank  beside  her, 
and  no  one  in  the  church  stood  in  that  presence.  The 
nuns  lifted  up  their  voices  and  murmured  the  Sa/ve  Reglna 
as  a  prayer  offering  for  the  beauty  of  it,  and  I,  after  that 
first  look,  knelt  on  the  tiles  with  bent  head,  and  the 
tears  fell  on  my  hands  —  tears  for  the  hungry  heart  of 
Tristan. 

I  knew  then  what  he  meant  when  he  said  he  was 
nearer  happiness  than  ever  before.  After  that  picture 
I  could  never  fail  to  understand  Tristan.  A  man  would 
have  to  live  with  a  spirit  of  love,  waking  and  sleeping 
through  the  years,  to  paint  that  consecration  he  had 
placed  upon  the  altar. 

He  had  painted  her  as  she  was,  divine  to  him,  and 
at  her  feet  knelt  his  enemies  and  lifted  their  voices  in 
adoration. 

Though  behind  prison  bars,  he  had  won  a  victory 
beyond  all  dreams. 

"  It  is  a  miracle  —  no  apostate  could  win  the  power 
to  paint  like  that." 

"  It  is  not  as  a  painting,  it  is  as  if  Our  Blessed  Lady 
had  swept  down  from  the  sky  to  stand  like  that  and  look 
out  upon  us,"  said  another.  "  I  never  will  believe  it 
a  thing  of  paint  unless  my  hands  touch  it." 

"  No  hands  should  be  permitted  to  touch  it,"  said 
proud  Fray  Bernardino.  "  Did  I  not  tell  you  a  prize 
would  be  ours  if  you  but  let  the  lad  do  his  will?  " 

"  We  will  hold  discourse  of  this,"  stated  Fray  Felipe ; 
"  there  has  been  mystery  about  this  work.  Who  is  to 
prove  the  hand  that  did  it?  " 


THE    TRIAL    OF    THE    FAITH     137 

"  I,  who  locked  him  in,  and  put  no  one  with  him," 
stated  Fray  Bernardino.  "  If  he  had  aught  of  help, 
it  came  from  Our  Lady  herself." 

And  thus  was  one  of  the  legends  begun. 

Dona  Perfecta  stared,  and  stared.  "  He  has  caught 
his  sunbeam  and  formed  it  into  a  woman,"  she  said. 

"  But  where,"  said  Dona  Mercedes,  "  is  there  a  child- 
woman  on  the  earth  with  that  royal  pride  and  gra 
cious  sweetness?  The  look  in  her  eyes  is  a  benedic 
tion." 

"  He  has  caught  the  sunbeam,"  repeated  the  ether 
in  a  strange,  grudging  tone,  "  yet  he  has  painted  her 
as  above  the  earth ;  her  feet  in  the  sandals  barely  touch 
the  grass  on  that  hill." 

Thus  the  voices  went  around  me,  while  I  could 
not  see  for  the  tears  in  my  eyes.  As  soon  as  might  be 
I  slipped  away,  and  walked  alone  until  the  night  came. 
That  was  the  night  I  unfolded  and  read  the  letters. 
My  boy's  mind  was  so  oppressed  by  the  weight  I  had 
to. carry  that  I  had  to  know.  And  reading  in  them 
what  I  read  in  the  picture,  I  thanked  God  that  Sancha 
was  safe  in  Spain. 


CHAPTER  X 
THE  COMING  OF  SANCHA 

I  SENT  food  and  messages  to  Tristan  but  let  days 
go  by  before  I  saw  him  again.  On  every  side  were 
voices  speaking  in  awe  and  wonder  of  the  painting 
in  the  chancel.  There  were  many  pious  doubts 
concerning  the  work  —  either  the  accused  man  could 
not  have  painted  it,  or  else  he  could  not  be  a  Jew  and 
a  heretic! 

Dona  Perfecta  tried  as  she  was  able  to  strengthen 
the  last  idea  —  yet  how  could  one  accomplish  much 
to  contradict  his  own  mad  acceptance  of  Jewish 
ancestry? 

"  He  shows  pride  in  it,  and  not  humbleness,"  stated 
her  husband,  "  and  in  all  ways  is  a  dangerous  man. 
Fray  Felipe  tells  me  that  there  are  many  pious  people 
who  firmly  believe  that  he  is  linked  with  the  devils  of 
the  pagans  and  inspired  by  them." 

"  Yet  one  thing  given  in  evidence  of  his  heresy  is 
that  he  said  the  pagans  had  no  devils,  and  were  the 
better  for  having  none."  I  ventured  this  with  a  cer 
tain  trembling,  for  fear  my  privilege  of  sending  his 
food  should  be  taken  away,  yet  it  was  occasion  for  Don 
Eduardo's  reading  me  a  lecture. 

"  How  make  converts  but  by  scaring  them  with  the 
devil?"  he  demanded.  "How  comes  true  form  of  re- 

138 


THE  COMING  OF  SANCHA   139 

ligion  but  in  the  fear  of  the  Evil  One?  This  heretic 
painter  had  best  be  reading  the  lives  of  the  saints,  rather 
than  the  unedifying  discourse  of  the  pagan  gods  of  the 
sky.  More  will  come  of  this,  for  his  words  of  the  high 
priests  here,  and  their  clan  name  akin  to  the  clan  name 
of  ancient  Jewry,  are  beyond  all  human  or  divine  reason, 
and  these  are  the  things  by  which  he  will  be  led  to  the 
stake  when  the  time  comes." 

"  But  it  is  not  as  if  he  had  linked  those  pagan  things 
with  Christian  names,"  I  said. 

"  Else  his  life  would  not  be  spared  so  long !  "  he 
answered  coldly.  "  He  has  declared  that  the  Son  of 
God  was  a  Jew,  and  after  that,  what  evil  thing  would 
he  halt  at?" 

I  could  not  say.  Yet  I  went  away  knowing  that 
while  the  painting  had  given  them  an  awe  of  him,  it 
had  not  lessened  the  bitterness  of  the  pious  —  his  art 
was  to  them  a  certain  indication  of  devilish  possession. 

I  said  some  prayers  of  my  own  to  the  Saint  of  the 
Impossible,  and  then  went,  after  those  days  of  pon 
dering,  to  see  Tristan. 

"  Have  you  been  ailing?  "  was  his  first  word  at  sight 
of  me,  and  I  truthfully  said  yes,  for  my  nights  had  been 
without  sleep  and  my  days  without  security. 

"  The  days  of  waiting  are  now  grown  irksome,"  he 
confessed ;  "  and  my  hands  are  idle,  for  my  work  is 
done,  and  I  have  painted  them  a  virgin." 

"  I  know,"  I  said.     "  I  saw  all  the  people  kneel  there." 

"  You  did  that?  "  and  he  was  eager  as  a  boy,  "  they 
knelt  to  adore  her?  Ay,  that  is  happiness,  Juanito.  If 
you  live  to  be  old,  and  she  does,  tell  her  of  it  when  I 
am  gone." 


140     THE    HOUSE    OF   THE    DAWN 

"  No  words  could  tell  her,"  I  said ;  "  only  the  picture 
itself  could  do  that,  and  the  picture  she  never  can  see." 

"  That  is  so,"  he  assented ;  "  her  paths  of  life  will 
lead  into  happier  places  than  this,  and  that  is  better. 
But  they  did  kneel  —  they  did  see  all  the  heavenly 
beauty  of  her?  " 

"  How  did  you  hold  it  in  your  mind  all  these  years, 
and  then  glorify  it  like  that?"  I  asked,  and  he  smiled. 

"  Rather,  how  have  I  kept  from  painting  it  into  each 
face  I  have  had  canvas  for?  You  perceive  I  did  resist 
that  until  they  gave  me  a  last  task." 

"  Tristan,  have  you  no  thought  of  what  the  people 
say?" 

"  Why  should  I?  I  shall  be  dead  and  out  of  it  before 
anyone  comes  who  knows  the  face,  and  it  may  be  that 
even  now  she  is  changed  until  only  you  and  I,  out  of 
all  the  world,  remember." 

I  could  not  say  anything  after  that.  His  words,  "  I 
shall  be  dead  and  out  of  it,"  told  me  the  Holy  Brother 
hood  could  have  no  surprises  for  him.  He  lived  with 
out  hope  while  biding  their  time. 

"  I  would  wish  to  write  one  letter  before  the  end 
comes,"  he  said ;  "  some  day  your  eyes  will  look  on  her 
again." 

I  nodded  my  head  and  went  away,  for  it  was  like  hear 
ing  a  man  prepare  for  death,  and  I  was  only  a  boy.  I 
asked  Fray  Bernardino  to  let  him  have  paper  and  pen 
so  long  as  he  wrote  no  heretical  record,  for  I  knew 
Fray  Bernardino  was  very  happy  over  the  picture,  and 
disposed  to  think  the  inspiration  of  Tristan  not  an 
evil  thing. 

Gilberto  Lanchitas  met  me  at  the  palace  with  word 


THE    COMING   OF    SANCHA 


that  a  ship  was  in,  and  the  carriers  had  been  sighted  on 
the  far  slopes,  so  we  rode  out  together  to  meet  the  mail. 
I  would  rather  have  gone  alone  for  my  own  reasons, 
as  Gilberto  was  constantly  alert  for  all  new  enterprises. 
Yet  my  anxiety  was  without  cause,  for  there  was  no 
letter. 

I  had  planned  every  conceivable  way  to  get  and  hide 
it  when  it  arrived,  but  for  its  non-arrival  I  had  made 
no  provisions,  and  Gilberto  laughed  at  my  face  when  I 
showed  my  disappointment. 

"  Is  it  a  lover  left  behind?  "  he  asked.  "  Your  eager 
riding  and  long  face  would  indicate  that." 

Then  he  asked  questions  of  the  ship,  and  passengers, 
and  the  journey.  All  arrived  well  but  a  noble  nun  of 
St.  Dominic,  who  had  come  with  a  band  of  sisters  for 
mission  work.  She  was  ill  in  Vera  Cruz,  and  their 
journey  delayed,  but  the  other  travelers  were  coming 
up  the  mountains  soon  as  might  be.  I  recalled  the  men 
tion  Sancha  had  made  of  the  nuns,  yet  gave  them  little 
thought.  The  lack  of  a  letter  was  most  in  my  mind.  I 
rode  back,  wondering,  and  went  to  Fray  Bernardino. 

"  I  had  asked  Tristan  for  help  with  a  letter,"  I  said, 
"  but  a  ship  is  in,  and  no  letter  has  come  for  me.  Will 
you  tell  him?" 

"  I  will  tell  him,  but  already  the  letter  for  you  is  writ 
ten  by  him,  and  I  am  to  give  it  to  your  hand.  No  evil  is 
in  it,  and  there  seems  no  fair  reason  why  you  should  not 
have  it.  A  letter  of  love  it  might  be,  yet  prayerfully 
writ  —  as  a  farewell  might  be.  It  will  make  you  a  poet 
to  the  lady,  and  anon  is  certain  to  bring  you  gracious 
word." 

The  good  monk  looked  at  me,  and  smiled  as  if  encour- 


i42     THE    HOUSE    OF   THE    DAWN 

aging  young  love,  and  smiled  more  when  my  face  burned 
red. 

"  Go  with  God,  my  son,"  he  said  in  kindness,  "  it 
is  the  spring  of  the  year  with  you." 

I  took  the  letter  and  went  my  way  after  slipping  a 
gold  piece  into  his  warm  hand.  It  was  a  comfort  to 
know  a  heart  like  that  was  near  Tristan,  even  though 
his  power  could  not  be  great  when  it  came  to  the  things 
of  life  and  death. 

There  was  a  note  to  me,  and  it  said, 

Don  Juanito: 

I  would  do  much  more  for  you  than  to  write  the  letter  which 
I  send,  but  the  things  I  may  do  are  not  many,  and  I  dare  not 
plan  for  the  days  of  tomorrow.  This  hour  I  have  is  all  I  call 
mine,  and  in  it  I  write.  The  future  hours  are  yet  with  God. 
May  they  bring  you  blessings.  Tristan. 

Then  I  opened  the  letter  the  monk  had  said  would 
win  me  a  gracious  word  from  a  lady.  With  Don  Rodrigo 
dead  and  Marco  gone,  all  the  weight  of  the  letters  of 
the  dice  was  mine  to  bear,  and  I  had  to  know.  The 
letter  showed  me  that  after  the  task  of  the  picture  was 
accomplished,  Tristan  expected  nothing  of  future  re 
spite,  for  this  was  indeed  the  farewell. 

White  Virgo: 

So  long  as  the  skies  of  earth  are  before  my  eyes,  my  mind 
sees  you  poised,  serene  and  queenly  between  Hydra  and  Leo. 
It  is  thus  I  will  think  of  you  when  the  last  hour  comes. 

The  skies  grow  dark  where  I  am,  and  I  go,  perhaps,  on  a  far 
journey.  Words  of  mine  may  not  reach  to  you  again  for  a 
long  and  weary  while,  but  in  the  place  you  know,  I  will  be 
waiting.  You  will  never  quite  forget  to  look  at  the  circling 
stars  of  night,  and  it  may  be  that  a  wandering  butterfly  will 


THE    COMING    OF    SANCHA        143 

help  you  remember.  Hold  close  your  dreams  to  your  saint  of 
the  white  bees,  and  lay  a  rose  on  her  shrine  for  me,  to  whom 
she  brought  the  joy  impossible. 

Give  deep  thought  to  a  man  before  giving  your  trust,  for 
your  white  life  is  so  precious  a  thing  that  you  are  placed  on  an 
altar  in  a  heart  here  in  this  far  land.  May  all  the  light  of  the 
"  houses  of  dawn  "  enshrine  you,  for  this  means  the  stars  of 
the  morning,  and  the  young  sun,  and  the  white  thoughts  they 
bring  to  a  soul. 

More  I  may  not  say,  and  when  this  prayer  comes  to  your 
hand,  the  writer  may  have  found  the  long  trail  to  the  place  at 
your  feet  —  the  place  of  rest  to  Alphard. 

I  had  been  past  all  further  wonder  when  I  looked  on 
her  face  smiling  its  glory  on  the  world  from  the  shadowy 
chancel,  and  the  letters  belonged  to  that  dream  life  of 
hers,  as  she  believed,  through  her  Saint  of  the  Impos 
sible.  The  saint  had  decreed  me  the  one  soul  left  to 
help  keep  her  dream  as  long  as  might  be,  and  I  folded 
and  sealed  the  letter,  and  had  it  addressed  and  sent 
with  the  first  carrier.  Nothing  gave  me  the  feeling  of 
safety  and  I  never  knew  when  I  might  be  searched, 
or  even  placed  where  I  could  not  start  the  letter  on 
the  way  to  her  hand.  Also  I  did  not  want  the  heart 
ache  of  seeing  again  a  hopeless  man's  farewell,  and 
whatever  the  future  might  bring  to  Tristan,  I  knew 
I  should  never  be  able  to  see  him  as  I  saw  other  men. 
Whether  heretic,  or  true  son  of  the  true  faith,  I  should 
only  see  the  painter  of  her  wonderful  face,  the  finder 
of  the  key  to  her  wonderful  dreams. 

And  then,  having  fought  out  my  own  battle  with 
my  boyish  self,  in  spite  of  my  own  sorrows,  and  having 
made  the  letter  safe,  there  was  little  to  do  but  see  him 
as  I  might,  either  within  the  prison  or  on  the  street 


i44     THE    HOUSE    OF   THE    DAWN 

in  the  regular  round  of  the  penitents  led  to  mass  with 
neck  in  halter,  and  the  robe  of  shame.  It  was  a  sor 
rowful  thing  at  best,  yet  he  ever  walked  with  head  in 
the  air  and  eyes  looking  above  and  beyond  the  faces 
of  the  street. 

A  week  after  the  sending  of  the  letter  I  saw  him  thus, 
but  his  face  was  bitter  and  hard  as  he  ranged  his  eyes 
over  the  crowd  until  he  saw  me,  then  there  was  the 
slight  lifting  of  the  chin,  and  the  old  look  of  command 
in  the  eye.  I  knew  nothing  of  what  it  boded,  yet  I 
saw  he  was  still  human  enough  for  anger,  and  that  he 
commanded  me  to  come  to  him. 

I  went,  early  as  might  be,  the  next  morning,  and  he 
gazed  at  me  in  hard  question  and  reproof. 

"  You  have  known  it  ever  since  that  night,"  he  said 
bitterly.  Then  I  knew  he  meant  Marco  and  Anita. 

"  And  I  risked  my  life  for  a  De  Ordofio  for  that !  " 
and  he  laughed  shortly.  "  Does  he  forget  my  promise? 
I  told  him  if  he  touched  that  child,  I  would  trail  him  till 
he  died  or  I  did.  Does  he  hold  my  word  so  light  a 
thing?" 

"But,  Tristan,  within  these  walls  what  can  you  do? 
What  but  sorrow  could  the  telling  bring  you?  So  I 
kept  silent." 

"  No  added  breach  of  their  rules  can  add  to  the  les 
son  they  mean  to  make  of  me  here  when  the  time 
comes,"  he  said  grimly.  "  Though  I  followed  him 
to  death,  they  can  only  kill  me  once  for  all,  and  that 
they  will  do  in  their  own  way  some  morning  of  holiday. 
Juanito,  if  a  change  should  come  to  me  —  and  any 
change  means  death  whether  soon  or  late  —  go  you 
back  to  Sgain,  and  remember  your  blood  kindred  to 


THE    COMING    OF    SANCHA        145 

Don  Payo  if  you  have  need  of  a  friend.  Take  this  to 
your  heart  and  remember." 

"  Tristan,"  I  said,  and  my  heart  was  sick  and  shaking 
within  me,  "  Tristan,  have  you  heard,  then,  aught  of 
your  sentence?  " 

"  Nay,"  he  said,  "  it  is  only  that  I  have  sentenced 
myself  for  a  task  to  be  done  if  chance  offers.  Be  safe, 
Juanito,  go  you  back  to  Spain,  and  comfort  as  best  you 
may  the  exalted  maid  whose  name  we  do  not  speak." 

I  went  back  to  Luiza,  and  told  her  Tristan  knew,  and 
was  bitter,  and  said  strange  things  I  could  not  under 
stand.  And  in  trying  to  understand,  I  fretted  myself 
into  a  fever  of  illness  that  night,  and  had  two  days  of 
nursing  and  medicines  ere  I  was  on  the  street  again,  and 
then  it  was  to  see  in  the  plaza  and  before  the  palace  a 
gathering  of  people  to  give  greeting  to  the  reverent 
mother  of  the  Dominican  nuns  who  was  to  be  the  guest 
of  the  viceroy,  together  with  others  of  her  sisters. 
The  viceregal  carriage  had  gone  with  an  escort  to  meet 
them  at  the  borders  of  the  city,  and  the  superiors  of 
other  convents  were  already  invited  to  the  palace. 
Altogether  there  was  an  impressive  group  of  ecclesias 
tics  gathered  there,  and  with  Ernesto  Galvez  I  stood 
at  one  side  of  the  portal  using  my  eyes  as  a  boy  will  at 
any  new  pageant. 

Don  Tomas  himself  came  there  and  bent  the  knee 
to  religion  as  shown  in  the  person  of  the  mother  supe 
rior,  and  led  her  graciously  through  the  line  of  ladies 
to  the  seat  of  honor  between  himself  and  the  arch 
bishop.  Following  came  the  other  sisters  in  their  white 
robes  of  the  pure  in  heart,  and  as  one  weary  woman 
looked  like  another  to  me,  I  was  turning  away,  feeling  of 


146     THE    HOUSE    OF    THE    DAWN 

no  use,  when  from  the  carriage  of  the  viceroy  there  came 
a  high  sweet  call  like  that  of  a  happy  bird, 

"  Juanito !     O  Juanito !  " 

Eyes  turned  to  me  ere  I  could  locate  the  voice,  and 
then  through  the  group  she  came  running,  with  her 
hands  outstretched  and  all  her  face  alight. 

"  Juanito !  I  have  come  —  I  have  crossed  the  seas  to 
come !  I  am  really  here,  Juanito !  " 

Gilberto  —  the  lank  cub  —  grinned  at  the  dismay  in 
my  face,  and  that  brought  me  to  my  wits. 

I  took  her  two  hands,  and  kissed  them  and  bowed 
in  my  best  manner,  and  presented  Don  Eduardo. 

"  My  cousin,  the  Dona  Encarnacian,  Marquesa  de 
Llorente  y  Rivera,"  I  said,  and  had  my  own  revenge 
to  see  plumes  sweep  the  tiles  as  she  passed. 

She  looked  all  of  sweet  girlhood  in  the  soft  folds  of 
the  novice  garb,  yet  she  bent  graciously  as  a  young 
queen  before  the  viceroy,  and  kissed  with  humility 
the  ring  of  the  archbishop. 

There  was  more  than  the  usual  flutter  over  a  pretty 
maid  as  the  mother  superior  took  her  hand  with  a  little 
smile  of  humor,  and  glanced  at  the  viceroy. 

"  Here  is  a  very  worldly  young  mocking  bird  in  the 
raiment  of  a  modest  wren,"  she  said.  "  Our  Dona 
Encarnacian  would  go  adventuring,  and  had  our  pro 
tection  to  your  court,  Your  Excellency." 

"  The  court  is  honored.  The  apartments  of  Don 
Payo  have  had  no  occupant  since  his  going,  and  are  at 
disposal  of  his  kinswoman." 

While  Dona  Perfecta  was  introduced,  I  made  bold 
to  speak  aside  to  Don  Eduardo,  asking  that  time  for 
consultation  should  be  allowed,  for  it  might  be  that  my 


THE    COMING    OF    SANCHA        147 

cousin  would  prefer  not  to  be  of  the  gay  palace  guests 
when  she  heard  of  Don  Rodrigo,  and  —  of  other  things. 
The  convent  might  prove  a  more  restful  retreat. 

Don  Eduardo  smiled  as  he  watched  her,  all  alive  with 
interest  in  new  scenes  and  new  people. 

"  Her  excellencia  does  not  give  appearance  of  a  seek 
er  of  rest,"  he  observed.  "  She  flashes  color  not  to  be 
quelled  by  all  the  nun's  robe." 

Which  was  the  truth.  She  was  seated  by  the  viceroy, 
who  warmed  wonderfully  to  this  sparkling  masquerader. 
Dona  Perfecta  joined  them,  and  regarded  Sancha  cu 
riously.  Her  gay  freedom,  which  was  yet  not  boldness, 
made  her  difficult  for  the  older  woman  to  understand. 

"  Our  men  of  Mexico  will  bless  the  reverend  mother 
for  sheltering  you  on  the  journey,  Marquesa,"  she  said. 
"  Spanish  brides  are  still  so  rare  that  our  men  speak 
for  wives  soon  as  a  girl  child  is  christened." 

"  That  is  why  I  came !  "  confessed  Sancha,  smiling. 

"  Your  pardon !  You  came  because  brides  were 
scarce?  " 

"  Not  that,  quite,"  and  Sancha  blushed,  and  looked  at 
me  —  the  only  wretched  devil-driven  soul  in  all  the  gay 
group  —  "I  came  because  I  was  spoken  for  in  child 
hood,  and  the  man  is  here,  Your  Excellency." 

"  May  I  ask  his  name  that  I  may  add  to  your  hap 
piness  by  sending  for  him?  "  asked  Don  Tomas.  With 
an  arch  glance  at  me,  she  whispered  Marco's  name  to 
the  viceroy. 

His  face  changed,  and  he  lowered  his  eyes  as  he 
bowed. 

"  I  regret  I  may  not  serve  you  on  the  instant  as  I 
could  wish,"  he  said,  "  but  Don  Marco  de  Ordono  has 


i48     THE    HOUSE    OF    THE    DAWN 

undertaken  an  expedition  for  the  state  into  the  deserts 
of  the  north.  It  is  a  journey  of  sixty  days." 

"  I  know  it  is  far  —  his  letter  told  me  that  —  but  sixty 
days  more  is  not  much  when  I  have  crossed  the  seas  to 
follow." 

"  His  letter?  "  I  muttered,  and  got  near  enough  to 
touch  her  arm,  my  wits  all  but  gone  in  the  sudden 
silence  around  her,  "what  letter?" 

"  One  meeting  me  at  Vera  Cruz,"  she  said  eagerly. 
"  Think  of  it,  Juanito !  I  might  have  missed  that  letter 
if  it  had  not  been  for  the  ship  captain  who  knew  I 
hoped  for  one.  He  brought  it  to  me  at  the  convent 
where  we  nursed  Mother  Maria  Ynez.  So  I  knew  Marco 
was  going  —  but  I  did  not  know  where." 

Then  everyone  began  talking  at  once,  and  the  viceroy 
kindly  turned  to  speak  to  the  Mother  Ynez  and  left 
me  to  draw  Sancha  away  to  a  window  overlooking  the 
plaza. 

"Is  it  not  wonderful?"  she  whispered,  pressing  my 
hand  in  excess  of  joy.  "  What  difference  can  a  little 
sixty  days  make  after  I  am  actually  here?  Tell  all 
you  know  of  him,  Juanito,  for  I  am  not  the  girl  you 
left  in  Spain  —  his  letters  have  made  all  the  world  a 
different  place." 

"  His  letter  has  not,  perhaps,  told  you  the  sad  thing 
we  have  had  to  meet,"  I  said,  and  then  I  told  her  of  the 
death  of  Don  Rodrigo,  and  that  I  alone  was  now  in 
Mexico  to  do  her  will  since  Marco  had  gone  —  as  the 
viceroy  informed  her  —  on  an  expedition  for  the  state. 

"  Poor  Don  Rodrigo!  "  she  murmured,  "  what  a  trial 
I  was  to  him  —  and  what  a  lecture  I  was  prepared  for ! 
His  soul  to  God  —  for  he  was  a  good  and  kind  man." 


THE    COMING    OF    SANCHA        149 

Then  after  a  bit  of  silence  while  my  mind  was  in  a 
whirl,  she  asked  softly,  "  Tell  me  truly,  Juanito  —  is  it 
a  journey  of  great  danger  on  which  he  is  sent." 

"  Who?  "  I  asked  stupidly. 

"  Marco.  I  feel  sure  it  is  so.  His  letter  fills  me  with 
strange  fears  for  him  —  every  day  was  a  week  down 
there  at  Vera  Cruz  by  the  sea.  I  would  have  ridden 
alone  to  come,  but  the  nuns  were  horrified,  so  I  had 
to  wait  for  them.  But  the  letter  of  farewell  for  the 
far  journey  makes  for  me  a  heartache.  He  is  very 
lonely  —  is  he  not,  Juanito?" 

"  How  can  I  know?  "  I  asked,  and  she  smiled  and 
sighed. 

"No,  you  cannot  know,  Juanito.  No  one  can  know 
but  me,  and  for  that  reason  is  he  more  mine  than  we 
ever  could  have  thought." 

The  reverend  mother  elected  to  remain  at  the  palace 
while  rooms  were  being  arranged  at  convents,  also  she 
elected  to  keep  Sancha  with  her.  It  was  no  pleasure 
for  me  to  see  her  there,  where  Dona  Perfecta  held  a 
suddenly  discreet  sway.  Yet,  since  it  was  so  decided, 
I  could  put  forth  no  objection  that  she  remained  under 
the  charge  of  Mother  Maria  Ynez,  Countess  de  Monde- 
jar,  for  whom  the  palace  became  as  a  great  reception 
hall  for  ecclesiastics  of  note.  Mother  Maria  Ynez 
promised  to  be  a  person  of  importance  in  mission  work 
and,  as  sister  of  a  cardinal,  was  a  social  acquisition  of 
value  to  any  establishment. 

The  viceroy  sent  for  me,  and  was  in  all  things  gra 
cious.  Mine  was  to  be  the  pleasant  task  of  page  or 
guardian  of  the  two  noble  visitors.  My  relationship 
to  the  Marquesa  de  Llorente  y  Rivera  made  me  the  most 


150     THE   HOUSE    OF   THE   DAWN 

fitting  and  agreeable  person  to  arrange  their  drives,  and 
learn  their  wishes.  Also  I  was  to  take  up  my  old  lodg 
ings  in  the  palace  as  in  the  days  of  Don  Payo.  To  house 
in  the  cottage  of  a  soldier  of  the  guard  was  scarce  in 
keeping  with  my  importance. 

When  this  had  been  concluded,  he  made  excuse  to 
send  Don  Eduardo  from  the  audience,  and  smiled  at  me 
shrewdly. 

"  Now  tell  me  of  this  brilliant  and  lovely  cousin.  It 
is  true  that  the  marriage  is  arranged?" 

"  So  true  that  my  wits  are  near  gone  at  the  shock  of 
her  coming  at  this  most  unhappy  time !  " 

He  had  a  bit  of  serene  amusement  at  my  dismay,  and 
serene  vanity  enough  to  cope  with  it. 

"  Surely  the  courtiers  of  Mexico  can  serve  to  enter 
tain  her  after  a  fashion  until  the  wanderer  can  be 
brought  back,"  he  suggested. 

"  But  who  is  to  bring  him?  " 

"  There  will  be  no  difficulty  in  that.  I  can  send  a 
courier." 

I  knew  he  could  —  but  would  he?  Lovely  maids  of 
degree  were  not  so  plentiful;  Don  Tomas  had  a  record 
for  gallantry,  and  a  long  waiting  in  the  city  might  bring 
Sancha  knowledge  making  her  less  eager  for  that  one 
stray.  So  I  voiced  my  doubt  as  to  whether  she  would 
be  content  to  wait;  she  was  alive  for  an  adventure, 
and  had  even  spoken  of  going  north  to  Sonora  where 
a  convent  was  to  be  established  by  Mother  Maria  Ynez 
—  or  by  the  money  she  donated  to  the  task.  Four  nuns 
were  to  go,  and  already  Sancha  was  studying  maps  and 
reckoning  how  short  a  way  —  on  paper  —  the  trail 
looked  from  Sonora  to  Sante  Fe  on  the  Rio  Bravo. 


THE    COMING    OF    SANCHA        151 

"  Let  us  hope  she  will  be  content  with  adventures  in 
safer  places,"  he  said  easily ;  "  there  are  many  novel 
things  to  be  seen  here  in  Mexico." 

When  I  told  Sancha  this,  she  laughed.  To  her  there 
was  only  one  thing  worth  her  while  in  all  the  world  — 
and  she  meant  to  find  it. 

"  By  all  means  let  the  viceroy  send  courier,"  she 
said.  "  But  why  may  I  not  cross  the  lands,  and  be  of 
aid  to  the  nuns,  and  meet  Marco  half  way  on  his  return? 
I  am  helping  with  the  cost  of  this  new  convent.  Why 
may  I  not,  in  courtesy,  ride  with  them,  and  learn  what 
other  needs  they  may  have?  " 

I  saw  that  she  was  indeed  a  different  maid  from  the 
one  I  had  left  in  Spain.  She  was  alert  to  every  point 
in  favor  of  the  thing  she  meant  to  do ;  added  to  which, 
she  had  the  good  will  of  the  mother  superior.  If  the 
child  wished  to  serve  God  by  such  labor,  the  nuns 
united  in  wishing  that  she  make  the  journey  with  them 
rather  than  wait  idly  through  the  long  months  until 
the  return  of  her  betrothed. 

What  I  could,  I  said,  but  she  only  took  my  face  in 
her  two  hands,  and  laughed  at  me. 

"  Not  only  will  I  go  when  the  train  is  ready,  but  you 
shall  go  with  me  as  escort,"  she  decided.  "  Think  of 
it,  Juanito,  to  ride  through  the  forests  together  day 
after  day,  and  see  the  wonders  of  it  —  the  birds,  the 
butterflies,  the  stars  at  night — " 

"  With  the  addition  of  snakes  and  other  creeping 
things,"  I  added,  "  and  who  knows  what  prowling 
savages  to  thieve  each  thing  left  unguarded." 

"  All  the  more  will  I  need  you,  Juanito.  We  will 
ride  north  as  two  knights  protecting  the  holy  women 


i52      THE    HOUSE    OF    THE    DAWN 

on  their  mission,  and  you  shall  tell  me  all  the  wondrous 
things  of  him  we  are  riding  to  find." 

The  wondrous  things  I  most  wished  to  tell  of  him 
grew  silent  on  my  lips  as  I  saw  her  joy  in  the  thought 
of  him. 

"  You  have  spoke  scarce  two  words  of  him  since  I 
came,"  she  pouted,  "  yet  you  lived  near  him  all  these 
months,  and  heard  him  discourse.  He  has  grown  so 
very  wonderfully  wise,  Juanito." 

I  said  nothing  to  this  —  of  what  use  was  it  when  I 
saw  that  light  in  her  eyes? 

"  Perhaps  he  does  not  talk  to  you  as  he  writes  me," 
she  went  on,  a  bit  more  shyly,  as  the  little  dimples 
deepened  in  her  cheeks.  "  His  letters  to  me  are  so 
wonderful  —  they  drew  my  heart  ahead  of  the  ship  all 
the  journey." 

She  touched  her  bosom  where  I  knew  the  letters  lay. 
Though  she  had  changed  her  garb  of  the  nun's  robe  and 
wore  silk  of  a  sapphire  blue,  I  knew  that  in  all  her  mag 
nificence  her  most  precious  jewels  were  the  words 
written  and  hidden  under  her  laces  —  the  words  decided 
by  the  toss  of  the  dice! 

I  wanted  to  kneel  at  her  feet  and  tell  her  she  was 
cheated  —  that  there  was  no  honesty  in  anyone  any 
where  —  and  that  the  safer  thing  was  to  don  again  the 
nun's  robe,  and  wear  it  forever. 

"  Little  cousin,"  I  said,  "  men  are  sometimes  one  thing 
on  paper,  and  another  thing  in  real  life.  If  —  If  Marco 
should  not  prove  what  you  think?  Men  are  not  saints, 
you  know,  and  their  rovings  take  them  in  strange 
places." 

"  I  know,"  she  said  softly,  "  but  he  is  very  lonely  in 


THE  COMING  OF  SANCHA   153 

the  strange  places ;  his  heart  tells  that  loneliness  to  my 
heart,  though  no  one  else  in  all  the  world  might  think 
it.  Dona  Mercedes  says  he  is  handsomer  all  the  time, 
and  of  course  he  is  grand  favorite  —  yet  deep  in  his 
heart  he  is  the  most  lonely  of  men  —  and  that  is  why 
I  am  here." 

"  But  he  may  be  in  a  fury  with  me  if  I  let  you  go  into 
the  wilderness,"  I  protested  weakly,  and  she  laughed 
and  caught  my  hand. 

"  Look  at  me,  Juanito !  "  she  said.  "  If  you  had  been 
writing  your  very  heart  out  to  me,  and  you  suddenly 
turned  a  corner  and  found  me  in  your  arms,  could  you 
have  anger  with  any  soul  on  earth  who  helped  me  on 
my  way  to  you?  " 

"  But  I  am  not  Marco,"  I  said,  and  looked  away  rather 
than  at  her  as  she  commanded.  It  was  quite  true  —  no 
man  but  must  have  been  glad  of  her.  Eyes  turned  her 
way  at  every  chance,  and  I  saw  more  than  one  person 
look  at  her  in  puzzled  wonder,  while  I  grew  hot  and 
cold  with  fear  because  of  the  question  in  their  minds. 

Dona  Mercedes  voiced  it  when  she  said,  "  I  have  never 
been  in  Seville,  senorita,  yet  you  made  me  feel  that  I 
had  seen  you  in  a  dream  —  somewhere.  I  thought  it 
was  the  robe  of  the  novice  which  you  wore  —  but  it  is 
not.  It  is  very  puzzling  —  almost  I  place  you,  and  then 
you  smile,  or  turn  your  head,  and  I  lose  you  again." 

I  breathed  more  freely,  for  Sancha  was  smiling  or 
turning  her  head  most  of  the  time,  and  it  was  true  that 
only  with  her  face  in  repose,  and  the  eyes  looking 
straight  out  over  the  world,  did  she  have  likeness  to 
the  Virgin  of  the  Fawn  in  the  chancel  of  San  Carlos. 

It  was  as  Tristan  had  said  —  she  had  grown  different. 


154     THE    HOUSE    OF    THE    DAWN 

The  mouth  was  no  longer  wistful,  but  tremulous  with 
the  happiness  of  her  heart.  The  face  had  more  color, 
and  only  the  eyes  of  velvet  softness  were  the  same  — 
yet  out  of  all  the  world,  who  but  Tristan  and  I  could 
be  sure?  The  reflected  light  from  the  blue  silk  of  the 
dress  made  even  her  eyes  look  different.  So  I  praised 
the  dress,  and  urged  that  she  wear  such  color  always. 

"  That  may  not  be  possible  on  the  trail,"  she  said, 
"  for  I  shall  wear,  as  I  wore  in  coming,  the  dress  of  a 
novice.  You  know  I  made  promise  that  I  would  wed 
or  turn  nun." 

She  laughed  at  the  past  promise,  made  in  a  temper, 
and  then  was  led  away  by  Ernesto  Galvez  to  see  some 
birds  of  wondrous  hues  brought  up  from  the  south. 

"  What  if  she  knew  what  we  could  all  tell  her?  "  asked 
Dona  Mercedes.  "  Are  we  friends  that  we  do  not?  " 

"  It  will  all  come  right,"  said  Don  Eduardo.  "  The 
viceroy  will  send  a  courier.  But  a  word  would  be  wise 
in  Don  Marco's  ear  —  when  he  finds  his  bride  he  would 
best  wed  as  soon  as  may  be,  and  take  first  ship  for 
Spain.  He  is  not  high  in  favor  these  days  except  for 
courtesy  to  Dona  Encarnacian." 

"  Think  you  he  can  wed,  and  take  ship,  and  leave  her 
none  the  wiser  of  his  love  days  in  Mexico?  " 

"Why  not,  if  his  friends  are  loyal?"  asked  Dona 
Perfecta,  and  at  that  moment  Don  Tomas  halted  out 
side  the  window,  looking  after  Sancha  in  the  garden 
below. 

"  Loyalty  to  Don  Marco  is  a  poor  investment  of  either 
head  or  heart,"  said  Dona  Mercedes.  "  See  what  Don 
Tristan  got  for  his  loyalty  —  I  shudder  to  think  what 
would  happen  if  he  were  free." 


THE    COMING    OF    SANCHA        155 

"  It  would  make  useless  the  journey  of  the  Marquesa 
de  Llorente  y  Rivera,"  observed  Don  Eduardo,  "  for  she 
would  have  no  gay  gallant  for  the  wedding  day.  Tristan 
would  kill  him  like  a  dog.  I  hear  he  vowed  it." 

Dona  Mercedes  laughed.  "  Of  murders  I  do  not  ap 
prove,"  she  said  lightly,  "  yet  in  my  heart  I  feel  as  if  it 
would  be  for  the  happiness  of  Dona  Sancha  if  the  vice 
roy  should  select  Tristan  as  courier  to  the  north." 

"  For  her  happiness,"  echoed  Don  Eduardo  in  horror, 
"when  the  girl  is  mad  with  love  for  him?" 

"  If  he  were  sent  to  heaven  she  would  keep  on  loving 
him  —  which  is  more  than  a  sane  woman  could  do  who 
had  to  live  with  him,"  she  retorted.  "  It  is  not  Marco 
de  Ordono  she  loves  —  it  is  the  man  he  pretends  in  his 
letters  to  be,  and  I  maintain  that  a  courier  like  Tristan 
would  be  the  safe  one  to  send.  It  would  end  all  this 
tangle  for  a  sweet  and  honest  maid." 

"  What  unchristian  hate  you  have  for  him,"  said 
Dona  Perfecta  reprovingly. 

"  Yes  —  I  think  I  have,"  confessed  Dona  Mercedes. 
"  He  is  too  pretty  for  a  man  —  a  sheltered,  luxurious 
cat !  But  I  will  say  a  rosary  in  penance  for  my  jealous 
dislike  of  his  complexion ;  "  and  with  a  hard  look  at 
Dona  Perfecta,  she  passed  out  the  sala,  and  went  to  join 
Sancha  and  Ernesto  in  the  garden. 

"  I  am  glad,  my  angel,  that  you  inherit  none  of  the 
waspish  tongue  of  your  relative,"  said  Don  Eduardo, 
and  Dona  Perfecta  slipped  her  hand  in  his,  and  looked 
up  in  his  face  with  the  smile  of  an  angel. 

"  Dear  Mercedes,  I  am  sure,  will  grow  to  have  more 
charity,"  she  said  hopefully.  "  I  will  say  a  prayer  for 
her." 


I56     THE    HOUSE    OF   THE    DAWN 

Then  they  also  passed  out,  and  I  followed  after  with 
out  turning  my  head.  Yet  I  knew  the  viceroy  still  stood 
there  by  the  window,  and  that  he  had  heard  the  heart 
less  suggestion  as  to  the  choice  of  a  courier.  Why  had 
he  not  betrayed  it,  or  as  usual,  joined  the  little  group? 
Was  some  one  member  of  it  in  ill  favor  at  court?  Since 
the  coming  of  Sancha,  he  had  been  even  more  gracious 
than  was  his  wont  in  regard  to  plans  and  pleasures  for 
the  ladies  of  the  household.  I  walked  away  thinking 
of  this,  and  of  a  remark  of  Gilberto  that  a  new  beauty 
at  court  took  five  years  from  the  age  of  Don  Tomas. 


CHAPTER  XI 
THE  PASSING  OF  THE  PENITENTS 

IN  those  two  days  of  joy  and  dismay  at  her  coming, 
I  had  seen  naught  of  Tristan,  and  the  wish  of  Sancha 
that  I  ride  up  into  Sonora  with  her  filled  me  with 
dread  of  what  might  chance  while  I  was  away.  I 
dared  not  try  to  see  him  more  often  than  was  discreet, 
yet  it  was  a  comfort,  so  long  as  they  let  him  live,  that 
I  might  remain  near  enough  for  slight  service. 

On  the  third  morning  I  strove  to  see  him  but  was 
reminded  by  Fray  Bernardino  that  it  was  the  day  of 
an  execution  of  a  witch,  and  all  the  accused  were  led 
to  mass  and  to  witness.  That  day,  as  I  knew,  no  vis 
itors  were  permitted.  I  returned  to  the  palace  little 
comforted  at  his  respite,  for  I  felt  it  a  duty  to  tell  him 
she  was  here  —  yet  how  could  I?  And  I  felt  also  the 
duty  to  keep  her  from  the  quemadora  —  many  pious  souls 
regularly  witnessed  the  horrors  there  as  a  matter  of 
discipline  to  their  own  souls. 

But  Sancha  had  made  plans  equally  troublous.  She 
was  waiting  for  me  in  the  garden,  bent  on  being  taken 
to  San  Carlos,  where  her  letters  had  been  addressed.  I 
told  her  all  I  could  to  convince  her  that  San  Carlos  was 
nothing  remarkable,  merely  an  old  monastery,  and  an 
old  chapel,  and  a  century-old  inn  beside  it,  where  the 
names  of  many  notables  were  written  on  the  plastered 

157 


THE    HOUSE    OF    THE    DAWN 


walls.  But  she  had  heard  of  the  giant  rose  tree  by  the 
monastery,  and  that  there  was  some  picture  of  a  late 
miracle  there  —  all  the  nuns  were  talking  of  it,  so,  for 
pious  reasons,  it  was  a  good  place  to  go  for  prayer  — 
Mother  Maria  Ynez  was  going. 

Sick  with  dread,  I  walked  beside  her.  The  rose  tree 
was  in  bloom  by  the  monastery  wall,  and  shed  its  petals 
over  the  stone  benches  and  over  the  age-weathered  table 
where  the  dice  of  the  letters  had  been  tossed.  The  inn 
across  the  little  arcade  was  in  holiday  dress,  and  its 
patron  saint,  with  the  crown  of  feathers  and  dyed  cot 
ton,  was  placed  in  the  niche  outside  the  door,  in  honor 
of  the  visit  of  the  reverend  mother  and  her  flock. 

It  was  a  morning  with  the  smile  of  God  on  it  in 
beauty,  and  the  chatter  of  Sancha  made  music  bitter 
sweet  to  me  —  the  odor  of  roses  to  this  day  brings  it 
all  back. 

Fray  Felipe  walked  with  Mother  Maria  Ynez,  and 
Don  Eduardo  on  the  other  side,  and  Sancha  and  I 
behind  all  the  visiting  nuns,  and  their  convent  guides. 
Like  a  flock  of  doves  in  white  robes  they  crossed  the 
plaza,  placid  in  their  pious  intent. 

They  entered  the  chapel,  while  I  grew  suddenly  alive 
to  the  historic  importance  of  the  ancient  inn  where  Don 
Rodrigo  had  lived,  and  been  loved  by  the  keeper,  and 
had  eaten  his  breakfasts  under  the  rose  tree,  also  I 
showed  Sancha  the  names  of  famous  soldiers  and  a  vice 
roy  or  two  whose  rubricas  made  the  old  inn  of  San 
Carlos  well  known  as  the  monastery  itself. 

"And  he  also  came  here  —  Marco?"  she  asked,  for 
all  her  knowledge  of  Mexico  began  and  ended  with  the 
thought  of  him. 


PASSING  OF  THE  PENITENTS  159 

"  Yes,  of  course  he  came  here,  everyone  does,"  I  said ; 
"  the  cook  and  the  wine  are  good." 

"  And  perhaps  sat  here  at  this  same  table?  "  she  said, 
and  slipped  into  the  stone  carven  bench  under  the  rose 
tree. 

"  Yes  he  did,"  I  agreed,  and  felt  she  should  be  told 
that  it  was  there,  where  her  blue  silks  rustled,  that  he 
had  sat  to  toss  the  dice  by  which  the  other  man  was 
given  the  way  to  her  heart.  I  wanted  to  say  it,  but  was 
dumb  before  the  radiance  of  her  face. 

"  I  am  glad  —  glad  that  you  brought  me  here,"  she 
murmured,  and  sighed  as  she  touched  a  drooping  rose 
over  her  head.  "  I  feel  closer  to  him  here  than  in  the 
palace  —  closer  to  the  thoughts  in  the  letters  he  sent. 
And  he  sat  here  —  in  this  same  place  —  perhaps  read 
here  the  letters  I  wrote!  It  is  sweet  of  you,  Juanito, 
to  bring  me,  for  I  feel  close  to  him  in  this  place." 

Then  Dona  Mercedes  appeared  from  the  chapel  door, 
as  if  looking  for  laggards  from  prayer,  and  Sancha  arose, 
and  smoothed  her  gown,  and  plucked  white  roses,  as 
she  said,  to  remember  the  first  place  where  she  had 
found  him  in  Mexico. 

I  was  dumb  as  a  fish  while  I  listened,  and  walked 
beside  her.  At  the  chapel  door  I  doffed  my  hat,  but 
kept  beside  her  instead  of  following,  and  as  we  entered 
the  shadows  of  the  portal,  I  slipped  my  hand  into  hers. 

Without  lifting  my  eyes  from  the  tiles,  I  yet  saw  her 
face  turn  to  me  in  inquiry,  convulsively  my  hand  closed 
on  hers  as  I  drew  her  to  kneel  beside  me.  I  sank  down 
because  my  legs  had  all  they  could  do  to  bear  me,  and 
her  silks  rustled  beside  me,  and  then  — 

I  heard  the  quick  gasp,  the  choke  in  her  throat,  and 


160     THE    HOUSE    OF   THE   DAWN 

I  coughed  to  hide  it.  But  the  cough  could  not  hide  also 
the  fact  that  only  one  person  in  all  the  chapel  was  not 
kneeling  in  prayer,  and  it  was  Sancha. 

The  time  seemed  endless  while  she  stood  there,  star 
ing  over  the  bent  heads  of  the  others.  Then,  almost  by 
force,  I  drew  her  down  beside  me,  where  she  half 
crouched,  looking  at  me. 

Heaven  knows  what  of  accusation  was  in  her  eyes  — 
it  might  have  been  my  own  hand  painted  it,  so  hard 
was  her  gaze.  She  said  no  prayer  there,  only  stared 
first  at  the  picture,  and  then  at  me. 

The  nuns  arose,  and  passed  out  into  the  sunshine,  and 
the  others  followed,  yet  still  she  crouched  there. 

"  Come,"  I  said,  "  they  will  wonder,  and  you  are  say 
ing  no  prayer." 

"  Why  should  I  pray  to  an  image  of  earth? "  she 
asked,  and  rose  to  her  feet.  "  Who  did  it,  Juanito  — 
who?" 

"  It  is  the  miracle  picture  done  by  the  hand  of  a  man 
accused  of  heresy,"  I  answered ;  "  some  say  it  was  done 
by  influence  of  demons  —  and  others  that  a  devout  monk 
did  the  work.  No  one  knows." 

"  They  should  know,"  she  said  coldly.  "  Has  Mexico 
so  many  men  who  can  paint  like  Murillo?  That 
vaporoso  feeling  is  his  very  own  and  —  and  —  Juanito, 
if  that  is  the  miracle  picture,  how  can  I  go  out  into  the 
light  facing  all  the  people?  " 

She  was  trembling,  and  clung  to  me,  half  frightened 
as  she  faced  that  wondrous  serene  figure  on  the  very 
top  of  the  world. 

"  And  Nanita,  too !  "  she  whispered,  "  I  loved  her  so ! 
Did  I  ever  look  like  that?  It  is  a  saint  who  is  also  a 


PASSING  OF  THE  PENITENTS  161 

child  —  I  was  never  a  saint,  Juanito.  Take  me  out  and 
away  from  the  others.  I  feel  as  if  I  am  under  some 
enchantment.  I  am  frightened  —  take  me  away !  " 

I  did  so,  walking  with  her  out  the  side  door  and 
around  again  to  the  table  under  the  rose  tree. 

"Is  it  enchantment?"  she  demanded.  "What  have 
I  done  that  this  should  frighten  me  here?  It  is  like 
raising  the  dead  —  for  that  girl  is  not  I,  yet  once  was. 
What  have  I  done?" 

She  sat  trembling,  and  tears  were  in  her  eyes. 

"  You  have  done  nothing  but  let  someone  look  on 
you  some  fair  past  day,  and  he  did  not  forget  —  none  of 
us  forget,  Sancha,"  I  said. 

"  Juanito,  do  you  know  who  it  was?  " 

"  No  one  saw  the  work  or  the  worker  —  it  is  a  mys 
tery.  The  picture  was  painted  behind  locked  doors. 
Only  the  officers  of  the  Inquisition  could  tell  what  you 
want  to  know,  and  that,  Sancha,  is  what  we  dare  not 
strive  to  learn.  It  is  better  that  we  forget  that  the 
girl  ever  stood  there  as  we  once  saw  her  —  nothing  is 
left  of  that  memory  but  the  Virgin  of  the  Fawn." 

"  The  picture  is  a  glorified  thing  —  it  is  more  beauti 
ful  than  any  human  maid  could  be  —  but  even  the 
sandals  on  the  bare  feet,  Juanito  —  the  sandals  were 
of  your  making !  " 

"  I  know,"  I  said,  "  but  we  must  forget." 

She  sat  a  long  time,  her  elbows  on  the  table,  and  her 
face  hidden  by  her  hands. 

"  The  Virgin,"  she  said  at  last  in  a  whisper  — 
"  Virgo ! " 

Then  she  slipped  from  her  bodice  the  letters  and 
read  them  one  by  one. 


i6a      THE    HOUSE    OF   THE    DAWN 

"  Virgo,"  she  repeated  —  "  against  the  sky !  Juanito 
—  you  do  know  —  it  is  Marco !  " 

"  Marco !  "  and  at  this  last  mad  bestowal  of  love  on 
him,  I  was  near  to  losing  my  last  trace  of  wit.  "  How 
could  it  be  Marco?  When  did  Marco  ever  learn  to  paint 
holy  things?" 

"  O  Juanito,  he  is  wonderful,  and  you  never  have  seen 
it !  "  she  breathed  softly.  "  When  did  he  learn  the 
wonderful  things  of  his  letters  to  me?  The  painting 
is  no  more  wonderful  to  me  than  that!  And  here  he 
tells  me,  '  I  saw  you  once  on  the  convent  hill  above  the 
olive  trees,  standing  clear  against  the  sky  with  the  white 
doves  about  you.  You  were  Virgo  to  me  —  white  and 
serene.'  Juanito,  that  is  what  he  painted!  I  did  stand 
there  with  the  fawn  —  and  the  doves  did  circle  above 
us  —  and  in  his  heart  he  glorified  it  all  until  that  picture 
is  on  the  altar,  and  his  words  are  here  for  my  heart! 
That  is  why  there  is  mystery  over  the  painting  —  he  has 
done  it  in  secret,  and  had  the  help  of  the  priests  to  hide 
it.  That  is  the  work  of  a  heretic?  O  cousin  mine:  only 
a  true  believer  could  have  painted  the  soul  of  the  Virgin 
into  a  little  barefoot  maid  on  the  hill !  " 

Her  eager  words  fell  over  each  other  in  her  great  joy 
of  discovery,  and  I,  who  could  have  laughed  aloud,  or 
cursed  at  the  way  all  things  worked  together  to  exalt 
him  —  I  could  see  only  one  gleam  of  safety  in  her 
thought. 

"  Since  you  think  this,  you  must  see  that  if  he  did 
the  picture,  he  has  striven  to  hide  it  in  secrecy  for  reasons 
of  his  own.  Ours  is  the  task  to  help  him  keep  the  secret. 
The  man  who  painted  it  did  not  dream  that  your  eyes 
would  ever  look  on  it  here  in  Mexico." 


PASSING  OF  THE  PENITENTS  163 

"  That  is  true,"  she  said,  "  it  is  his  secret  —  but,  O 
Juan!  He  has  a  genius  greater  than  we  could  dream; 
all  those  silent  years  he  has  been  painting  secretly,  and 
we  never  knew!  Do  you  wonder  that  I  followed  him? 
No,  I  followed  my  heart  that  followed  him!  I  did  not 
know  how  he  was  great,  yet  he  made  me  feel  he  was 
great."  Then  after  a  silence  she  added,  "  His  last  letter 
—  the  dear,  sad,  last  letter  —  told  me  I  was  enshrined 
on  an  altar  here  —  but  how  could  I  ever  think  how 
wonderfully  ?  " 

Tears  were  in  her  eyes,  but  when  I  made  attempt  to 
comfort  her,  she  smiled. 

"  My  weeping  is  for  very  joy,  Juanito,  yet  it  is  also 
in  humbleness.  What  am  I,  that  he  should  place  me 
so  high  in  his  heart?  " 

I  dared  not  try  to  answer  that,  and  she  continued  to 
discourse  on  the  greatness  of  Marco  until  I  all  but  lost 
control  of  my  tongue,  and  arose  to  follow  the  nuns. 
She,  however,  slipped  her  hand  into  my  arm. 

"  I  can  go  in  and  pray  now,"  she  said,  "  I  could  not 
before  —  I  was  too  frightened.  But  now  we  will  pray 
together  for  his  safety,  and  not  again  must  you  urge 
me  to  remain  here  in  waiting.  I  must  follow." 

I  knelt,  but  my  prayers  that  day  were  far  from  clear. 
I  did,  however,  thank  my  patron  saint  fervently  for 
any  excuse  to  prevent  further  question  of  the  painting. 

Sancha  stood  before  it,  her  hands  clasped  over  her 
breast  where  the  letters  lay.  "  O  Love  most  wonder 
ful,"  she  whispered,  "  my  Saint  of  the  Impossible  will 
find  the  way  to  you !  " 

Temptations  came  to  me  there  —  yet  I  held  my 
tongue.  My  promise  to  Tristan  overshadowed  me  —  my 


164     THE    HOUSE    OF    THE    DAWN 

promise  to  keep  the  secret  until  he  himself  should  tell 
her.  How  wild  and  far  away  that  chance  seemed  at 
that  time,  yet  here  she  was  before  his  work,  worshiping 
the  thought  of  it.  And,  scarce  the  flight  of  an  arrow 
away,  he  waited  beyond  stone  walls  the  sentence  of 
death  —  waited  the  torture  which  all  predicted  would 
be  needed  to  subdue  his  spirit  ere  it  was  sent  to  God. 

"  Come  away,"  I  said  and  took  her  hand.  "  You  are 
right,  Sancha;  it  may  be  that  even  the  wilderness  is  a 
better  place.  No  mysteries  are  there  to  overcome  a 
soul.  I  will  go  with  you  when  you  go." 

She  sighed  happily,  and  pressed  my  hand. 

"  It  is  the  most  wonderful  day  I  have  lived,"  she  said. 
"  His  letters  cleared  my  path  to  it.  And  some  day  — 
some  happy  day  when  we  are  together  —  we  will  build 
a  shrine  to  Santa  Rita,  who  has  made  the  impossible 
come  to  be." 

I  went  back  with  her,  thinking  hard  as  to  how  I  could 
get  away  alone,  and  see  Tristan  in  the  morning.  Sancha 
walked  as  on  air  and  said  little,  her  face  illuminated 
by  the  revelation  of  the  day. 

There  was  much  discourse  among  the  nuns  concern 
ing  the  Virgin  on  the  altar.  Mother  Maria  Ynez  spoke 
of  the  marvel  of  the  picture,  and  compared  it  to  certain 
work  of  Murillo,  wondering  much  as  to  the  training  of 
the  man  who  did  it.  From  Don  Eduardo  she  heard  the 
opinion  of  many  that  it  was  the  work  of  a  pious  monk 
whose  identity  was  hidden. 

I  drew  Sancha  away  lest  the  name  of  Tristan  be  men 
tioned —  not  yet  had  it  chanced  to  fall  on  her  ears. 
"  The  heretic  "  or  "  the  apostate  painter  "  had  served 
Don  Eduardo  with  the  nuns. 


PASSING  OF  THE  PENITENTS 


Dona  Mercedes  slipped  down  beside  me  in  the  window 
of  the  sala,  and  her  friendly  eyes  were  keen. 

"  It  is  not  so  easy  to  make  hourly  a  hero  of  Marco  for 
the  pleasure  of  a  lady  —  is  it,  Don  Juan?"  she  asked. 
"  You  look  dead  with  the  weariness  of  the  task." 

"  Which  is  ingratitude  in  any  man,"  I  observed.  "  One 
should  be  willing  to  make  a  hero  of  the  devil,  if  by  that 
he  could  win  so  sweet  a  maid  for  company." 

"  You  are  too  gallant  for  a  cousin !  "  she  said.  "  But 
I  warn  you,  take  a  leaf  out  of  Don  Eduardo's  book  when 
your  heretic  friends  are  in  question.  Did  you  mark  how 
little  he  knows  now  of  that  painter?  not  even  the 
name!  Who  would  think  that  so  short  a  time  is  gone 
since  Tristan  had  the  open  door  here  as  had  almost  no 
other?  And  one  would  think  that  painting  of  Perfecta 
had  been  done  ages  ago  and  forgotten  —  so  little  are 
they  inclined  to  mention  his  name  in  connection." 

"  They  are  very  fickle  —  for  he  is  no  different  as  a 
man." 

"  It  is  the  way  with  courts,  and  you  are  out  of  fashion," 
she  retorted.  "  But  truly,  Don  Juan,  it  would  be  better 
if  you  did  go  north,  and  let  people  here  forget  that  you 
are  ever  at  the  call  of  Tristan." 

"Who  says  it?" 

"  No  one,  in  words.  But  take  a  leaf  from  Don 
Eduardo  —  he  is  preparing  wisely  for  a  storm  if  one 
breaks  when  a  ship  comes  back  from  Spain.  Go  north 
in  good  company,  since  you  can  do  him  no  good  by  a 
stay  outside  his  prison  walls." 

"  At  least  I  can  know  he  eats  good  food." 

"  He  shall  have  the  food  —  even  when  you  are  gone," 
she  said  kindly.  "  I  do  not  speak  in  idleness  when  I 


166     THE    HOUSE    OF   THE   DAWN 

urge  you.  The  child  is  alone  in  Mexico,  with  her  head 
full  of  false  dreams  of  that  pretty  gallant.  Who  knows 
how  she  may  meet  him  in  the  wilderness,  and  learn  the 
truth?" 

"  That  meeting  is  the  thing  I  fear,"  I  confessed,  "  and 
I  am  already  of  a  mind  to  go  —  and  hasten  the  going." 

While  we  talked  there,  others  entered  the  sala,  and 
there  was  gaiety  and  soft  laughter.  Don  Tomas  was 
making  a  jest  of  Sancha's  determination  to  wear  a  nun's 
robe  on  the  journey,  and  he  gave  names  of  gentlemen 
who  had  suddenly  grown  devout  and  desired  above  all 
things  to  do  guard  service  for  the  nuns  into  the  northern 
wilderness. 

Then,  through  the  laughter  and  raillery,  we  in  the 
window  heard  voices  intoning  a  dolorous  chant  coming 
nearer  and  nearer  along  the  street.  Dona  Mercedes 
looked  at  me  and  sighed. 

"  God  find  peace  for  their  souls !  "  she  said,  and  crossed 
herself,  and  then  I  knew  it  was  the  return  to  prison  of 
the  heretics  who  had  been  led  to  prayers  and  to  witness 
an  execution  at  the  quemadora. 

In  the  plaza  below,  people  moved  silently  in  groups 
to  the  place  where  the  penitents  would  pass;  some  fell 
on  their  knees,  and  others  took  up  the  hymn  as  the  flare 
of  the  candles  of  the  "  reconciled  "  came  nearer,  while 
the  unreconciled  carried  green  candles  without  light. 
That  saddest  music  came  up  to  us,  and  the  gay  jests 
were  silenced  by  the  shuffling  of  the  many  feet  and  the 
tramp  of  the  guard. 

"  How  terrible !  "  said  Mother  Maria  Ynez,  as  she 
looked  down  upon  them.  "  To  this  new  land  one  could 
have  hoped  that  no  heretics  would  be  allowed  to  take 


The  Recognition. 


PASSING  OF   THE  PENITENTS  167 

ship.  The  native  pagans  are  in  darkness  until  we  come 
to  them  —  and  that  is  natural.  But  those  unregenerate 
are  against  nature,  and  against  God." 

I  could  have  wished  to  draw  Sancha  back  from  the 
doleful  sight,  but  Dona  Perfecta  made  place  for  her  on 
the  balcony,  and  together  they  looked  down,  in  their 
shimmering  silks  and  their  glitter  of  jewels,  upon  the 
men  and  women  who  wore  for  their  faith  the  robes  of 
shame. 

"  God  enlighten  them !  "  said  Sancha,  and  made  the 
sign  of  the  cross.  In  doing  so  she  let  fall  a  white  rose 
as  she  leaned  over  the  balcony.  It  fell,  touching  the 
bent  shoulders  of  an  old  man,  who  saw  it  not,  but  it 
caused  the  penitent  with  unlit  candle  who  followed  him 
to  lift  his  eyes  to  the  window  above. 

Then  there  was  a  gasp  as  of  fear  from  Dona  Perfecta 
as  she  shrank  back,  for  the  candle  of  the  penitent  was  let 
fall,  and  he  stared,  with  a  strange  look  in  his  eyes, 
directly  up  at  her  balcony. 

It  lasted  but  an  instant,  and  his  face,  as  he  passed  on, 
was  not  so  clearly  outlined  as  the  others  with  candles  lit. 
The  guards  closed  up  a  space  at  the  mishap,  but  the 
procession  did  not  halt  —  and  the  twinkling  lights  went 
on  down  the  plaza,  and  the  sorrowful  chant  came  back 
to  us  long  after  all  the  people  of  the  street  had  risen 
from  their  knees,  crossed  themselves,  and  gone  their 
way. 

"How  terrible  were  his  eyes  —  he  looked  murder!" 
breathed  Dona  Perfecta  nervously.  "  God  send  their 
ropes  are  strong  to  bind." 

"  Why  should  he  do  so  ?  "  asked  Sancha,  marveling 
at  her  terror,  "  who  is  he  ?  " 


i68      THE    HOUSE    OF    THE    DAWN 

"  He  is  the  son  of  a  priest,  and  accused  of  heresy,"  I 
said  before  others  could  speak.  "  It  is  not  a  matter  for 
the  telling  of  maids." 

The  reverend  mother  nodded  her  approval  to  me ;  she 
plainly  decided  I  was  discreet  and  careful  for  my  years. 
Sancha,  at  that  hint,  asked  no  more  of  the  matter.  She 
had  scarcely  seen  the  man  who  had  startled  Dona  Per- 
fecta  with  his  stare.  Except  to  add  a  prayer  for  them, 
Sancha  thought  little  of  those  who  had  put  themselves 
outside  the  grace  of  God.  All  her  thoughts  were  for  the 
wonderful  lover  for  whom  she  had  crossed  the  seas. 


! 


CHAPTER  XII 
THE  LOVE  TRAIL 

THAT  night  was  the  night  Tristan  escaped  to 
the  hills ! 
There  was  to  me  a  curious  mystery  about  it 
for  the  reason  that  little  outcry  was  made  and 
there  was  little  to  be  learned  of  it.    Don  Eduardo  was 
plainly  distressed,  but  the  viceroy  put  it  by  as  a  slight 
matter. 

"  When  the  state  or  the  Inquisition  have  need  of  him, 
he  will  not  be  hard  to  trace,"  he  remarked.  "  Who 
knows  that  it  is  not  another  trap  of  the  Holy  Brother 
hood  to  learn  the  friends  who  would  shelter  him?  " 

This  was  a  natural  thought.  Yet  if  it  were  the  true 
one,  would  he  voice  it  in  my  presence,  when,  out  of  all 
the  town,  I  was  the  one  who  had  asked  privilege  of  pro 
viding  for  his  needs? 

However  placid  the  viceroy  or  the  Brotherhood,  it  was 
far  different  with  Dona  Perfecta.  The  eyes  of  Tristan 
had  frightened  her  as  they  glared  up  at  the  balcony; 
Tristan  should  either  be  pardoned  and  exiled  that  he 
have  no  animosity  or  revenges  —  else  he  should  be 
guarded  so  close  that  none  should  get  sight  of  him. 

"  That  is  a  new  thought  —  the  thought  of  a  pardon 
for  him,"  said  his  excellency,  the  viceroy  —  "  and  you, 
Dona  Perfecta,  are  the  first  to  speak  of  it.  One  instant 

169 


iyo      THE    HOUSE    OF   THE    DAWN 

you  are  frightened  of  him  —  and  the  next  you  speak  of 
pardon.  Will  you  explain,  Dona  Perfecta?" 

She  saw  she  was  trapped  by  her  own  fears,  and  said 
she  dreaded  what  might  chance  if  he  crossed  the  trail 
of  Marco  and  pretty  Anita,  and  no  one  wanted  a  scandal 
now  that  the  Marquesa  de  Llorente  y  Rivera  was  a 
guest  at  the  palace.  No  one  could  guess  what  Tristan 
would  attempt  if  free  and  desperate;  his  stare  up  at 
the  balcony  had  been  strange,  and,  she  thought,  threat 
ening.  It  might  be  that  even  the  highest  could  be  in 
danger  —  and  some  plot  against  the  viceroy  — 

But  she  blundered,  and  floundered,  as  the  viceroy 
smiled  at  her. 

"  I  am  not  doubling  my  guard,"  he  said.  "  I  can  recall 
no  grievance  he  has  against  me;  yet  if  you  know  of 
aught  —  " 

"  I  know  his  grievance  against  Marco  de  Ordofio  and 
I  fear  a  scandal  for  your  guests,"  she  said.  "The  rever 
end  mother  might  not  approve  some  of  the  deceptions 
we  have  all  tried  to  make.  If  that  heretic  escapes  your 
soldiery  and  finds  De  Ordono  far  in  some  wilderness, 
it  would  be  a  simple  matter,  but  if  their  meeting  should 
be  here  under  your  windows  Your  Excellency  would 
have  difficult  problems  to  face." 

"  Yes,"  he  said. 

Something  in  the  way  he  said  it  made  her  turn  sharply 
and  look  at  him  in  silence,  then  her  eyes  narrowed  in  a 
strange  smile. 

"  I  see,"  she  said  —  "I  see !    The  game  does  grow." 

Then  she  laughed  shortly  and  walked  to  the  window 
looking  down  into  the  court. 

"  The  Marquesa  de  Llorente  y  Rivera  goes  with  the 


THE    LOVE    TRAIL 

nuns  and  is  very  much  in  love,  Your  Excellency,"  she 
observed.  "  It  is  not  worth  risking  too  much  in  making 
plans  for  her,  she  is  very  capable  of  making  her  own 
plans  —  ask  Don  Juan  here.  Also,  Tristan  is  a  danger 
ous  tool  for  any  one  to  use  —  even  to  give  so  lovely  a 
lady  fair  freedom  from  a  ranging  lover." 

I  did  not  understand  this,  but  I  could  see  that  for 
some  reason  she  was  angry,  and  that  the  viceroy  was 
half  amused  —  and  yet  watchful. 

"  Then  it  is  not  for  a  reason  personal  that  you  advo 
cate  stronger  walls  of  exile?" 

"Personal?"  and  she  seemed  to  take  on  an  inch  of 
height  in  her  disdain  —  "  if  it  was  another  than  Your 
Excellency  who  asked  that  —  " 

"  Let  me  show  you  something,"  he  said,  still  smiling, 
and  they  walked  into  the  other  apartment  where  the 
portrait  of  Dona  Perfecta  hung.  I  could  not  hear  what 
they  said,  but  he  pointed  to  the  little  figurine  of  the 
Mexican  princess.  I  could  see  her  puzzled  amaze,  then 
heard  a  sharp  cry. 

"  No !    He  could  not  dare." 

"  Is  there  anything  you  can  think  of  that  he  does  not 
dare?  "  asked  Don  Tomas,  as  they  walked  back  together. 
"  Do  you  still  ask  pardon  and  exile  for  him?  " 

"  No,"  she  said  very  coldly.  "  I  have  asked  nothing 
for  him.  I  only  asked  you  to  be  cautious  for  your  own 
sake.  Turn  loose  the  dogs  or  the  Indian  trailers  on  his 
track  and  hunt  him  as  you  would  hunt  a  brute  in  the 
jungle." 

"  The  Indians  would  only  trail  him  to  warn  him," 
said  Don  Tomas;  "  he  has  a  certain  friendship  with  the 
tribes,  but  every  port  will  be  watched,  and  there  will 


172      THE    HOUSE    OF    THE    DAWN 

be  only  one  trail  open  to  him  —  we  know  what  that 
trail  is,  and  if  ever  we  want  him,  we  can  find  him  there." 

"  Then  kill  him  there,"  she  said  bitterly ;  "  never  again 
let  him  walk  the  streets,  or  look  on  me." 

Their  quarrel  seemed  half  a  jealous  one  on  either 
side,  and  a  final  adjustment  through  her  sudden  concen 
trated  hate  of  Tristan.  I  did  not  understand  it,  but 
I  saw  Dona  Perfecta  hold  her  head  high  in  pride  until 
she  passed  from  the  range  of  Don  Tomas,  and  later  I 
learned  from  Dona  Mercedes  that  Perfecta  had  a  strange 
attack  of  rage  by  which  she  was  made  ill  and  was 
locked  in  her  room,  weeping,  and  refusing  to  see  any 
one  but  Fray  Bernardino,  and  she  had  sent  for  him. 

For  the  first  time  I  gave  careful  note  to  the  portrait 
of  Dona  Perfecta,  and  on  the  base  of  the  little  statue, 
I  spelled  out  the  letters  "  Hija  de  Axiakatzin."  The 
daughter  of  Axiakatzin  did  not  look  a  matter  of  im 
portance,  and  the  letters  were  so  small  that  few  eyes 
would  see  it  was  not  an  Indian  attempt  at  decoration 
—  yet  I  knew  that  no  other  thing  but  that  statue  had 
caused  the  fit  of  sick  rage. 

I  sought  out  Ernesto  Galvez  who  had  been  long  in 
Mexico,  and  had  ranged  with  Tristan. 

"  Who  was  Axiakatzin?  "  I  asked. 

"  A  king  in  Mexico." 

"  And  who  was  his  daughter?  " 

He  smiled  at  that,  for  the  daughters  of  kings  are 
many. 

"  But  a  daughter  of  his  famous  enough  to  have  her 
statue  preserved  to  this  day?"  I  persisted. 

"  I  only  heard  of  one  —  she  was  not  famous  —  she 
was  infamous  —  the  princess  of  a  hundred  lovers." 


fciU 


THELOVETRAIL  173 

"  That  is  the  one  —  the  princess  for  whom  men  died." 

"  They  did  indeed  —  and  quickly,"  he  said.  "  Her 
old  favorites  were  secretly  murdered  to  make  way  for 
new  lovers.  She  was  wife  to  a  king,  but  she  was  put 
to  death  on  the  shrine  of  adulterers,  and  her  family  was 
disgraced.  She  was  a  very  remarkable  lady." 

"  Fortunately  we  have  none  like  that  today,"  I 
observed. 

"  None  of  them  have  the  same  power  today  —  else  — 
who  knows  ?  "  he  said,  and  laughed.  "  Why  are  you 
searching  for  word  of  her?  Do  you  take  up  records 
of  these  pagan  kings  and  gods  where  Tristan  laid  them 
down?" 

"  God  forbid !  "  I  prayed.  "  They  are  not  of  healthy 
flavor  to  my  mind." 

I  could  see  plainly  now  what  had  happened.  By  some 
chance,  the  name  of  that  Mexican  king  had  come  to  the 
ears  of  Don  Tomas,  and  his  sharp  eyes  told  him  the  rest. 
If  he  had  ever,  for  a  moment,  felt  a  jealous  mistrust  of 
Tristan,  it  was  cleared  away  by  that  statue,  and  he  had 
used  it  now  to  check  her  remarks  as  to  his  interest  in 
the  latest  favorite  at  the  viceregal  court  —  Sancha, 
Marquesa  de  Llorente  y  Rivera. 

I  saw  that  in  wisdom  the  one  thing  for  peace  was  to 
urge  that  northern  journey  soon  as  might  be.  The 
jealousy  of  a  younger  face  might  prove  Dona  Perfecta 
a  maker  of  troubles  for  all  of  us. 

I  saw  Fray  Bernardino  that  day  go  into  the  sala  where 
the  portrait  was  hung  and  bolt  the  door,  and  in  the 
morning  I  was  not  surprised  to  find  red  roses  in  the 
hand  there,  and  no  trace  of  the  pagan  statue  left  to 
cause  comment. 


'<-> 


174     THE    HOUSE    OF    THE    DAWN 

"  I  like  it  better  thus,"  said  Dona  Perfecta  in  my  hear 
ing.  "  Pagan  and  infidel  things  should  not  be  put  in 
the  portrait  of  a  true  believer.  Fray  Felipe  is  also  of 
a  mind  to  have  the  fawn  painted  out  of  that  Virgin  of 
the  altar." 

"  But  the  pretty  fawn  is  not  a  pagan,"  I  ventured. 

"  Animals  have  ere  this  been  brought  to  trial  by  the 
church,"  she  said  coldly,  "  devils  are  known  to  possess 
them  at  times.  Fray  Felipe  is  making  search  to  learn 
if  such  thing  as  a  forest  creature  should  be  at  the  feet 
of  Our  Lady." 

"  The  doves  are  over  her  head  —  they  also  are  wild," 
I  said. 

"  That  is  a  different  matter,"  she  stated,  "  doves  are 
permitted  by  the  church." 

I  perceived  that  my  opinions  were  not  in  high  favor, 
and  sought  the  reverend  mother  and  Sancha  to  say  that 
the  arrangements  for  the  pilgrimage  north  were  well 
under  way,  and  that  the  guard  who  had  come  with  them 
from  La  Puebla  de  los  Angeles  was  yet  in  the  town  and 
begged  to  continue  as  servants  on  the  trail. 

Mother  Maria  Ynez  approved  of  this,  for  the  reason 
that  so  many  offers  came  from  the  town  men  that  it 
was  a  task  to  make  choice ;  but  by  holding  the  old  guard 
it  would  be  simple;  also,  Sister  Maria  Clemente,  who 
was  to  be  superior,  already  had  confidence  in  the  Pueblo 
men  and  they  were  not  as  strangers. 

My  own  decision  would  have  been  different,  for  the 
men  could  know  well  the  road  to  Mexico,  yet  were  men 
of  the  lowlands,  and  might  know  little  the  life  to  the 
north. 

But  in  this,  and  other  matters,  my  opinion  was  not 


fi 


THELOVETRAIL  175 

asked.  I  was  but  the  boy  at  court  who  chanced  to  be 
Sancha's  cousin,  and  that  most  headstrong  maid  must 
have  me  ride  beside  her. 

In  plain  truth  I  had  to  be  content  to  ride  behind  her 
for  the  first  few  leagues,  since  His  Excellency,  Don 
Tomas,  who  chose  to  make  a  holiday  of  it,  rode,  as  he 
often  did,  with  his  guard  into  the  plantations  of  the 
valley,  and  this  time  Sister  Maria  Clemente  and  Sancha 
were  taken  in  his  own  carriage  while  their  horses  were 
led  by  a  guard.  Mother  Maria  Ynez  gave  them  her 
blessing,  and  Dona  Perfecta  smiled  them  her  farewells, 
and  asked  many  questions  as  to  provisions  for  their 
comfort,  while  Dona  Mercedes  came  forward  with  sweet 
blossoms  for  Sancha. 

"  That  you  may  ride  to  peace,  Excellencia !  "  she  said 
kindly.  But  Sancha  kissed  her  cheek,  and  smelled  the 
fragrance  of  the  blossoms,  and  laughed. 

"  I  will  find  more  than  peace !  "  she  said  frankly,  "  for 
my  heart  is  ahead  of  me  on  the  road,  and  I  ride  to  hap 
piness." 

Thus  smiling,  radiant-eyed,  and  sure  of  joy  waiting 
for  her  at  some  turn  in  the  love  trail,  she  rode  north, 
and  the  eyes  of  Mexico,  either  jealous  or  friendly,  never 
looked  upon  her  face  again. 

At  the  far  boundary  of  a  valley  plantation,  Don  Tomas 
himself  lifted  her  to  the  saddle  with  some  remarks  of 
gallantry,  and  assurances  of  service  which  Sancha 
acknowledged  as  lightly  as  a  child.  She  rode  into 
Mexico  and  out  of  it  with  no  knowledge  that  the  middle 
aged  dignitary  was  caught  in  the  snare  of  her  smile, 
and  that  Dona  Perfecta  had  her  own  content  at  the 
departure. 


THE    HOUSE    OF    THE    DAWN 

But  to  Sancha  the  adventure  had  not  rightly  begun 
until  the  viceroy's  carriage  had  disappeared  in  the  fringe 
of  a  palm  avenue.  Then  she  laughed,  clapped  her  hands, 
and  petted  the  horse  that  was  to  be  her  companion  on 
the  long  trail. 

I  rode  beside  her  into  the  new  life,  and  we- repeated 
tales  of  the  crusaders,  and  dreamed  that  our  pilgrimage 
was  of  equal  importance,  and  in  the  pure  high  air  of 
Mexico  felt  that  we  were  above  the  world  of  mundane 
things. 

For  many  days  we  rested  at  some  plantation  or 
hacienda  or  mission  church  on  the  way.  Then,  after  a 
breakfast  at  early  dawn,  a  call  to  prayer  by  Fray  Jose 
Moreno,  the  loading  of  the  beasts,  we  took  the  trail 
with  good  wishes  of  our  hosts,  who  often  accompanied 
us  a  full  day  on  a  journey,  and  more  than  one  addition 
was  made  to  our  cavalcade  by  persons  of  degree  who 
wished  to  journey  to  Guadalajara  under  our  guard. 

Thus  the  days  were  never  dull  for  Sancha,  who,  in 
the  freedom  of  the  mountains  and  the  forests,  echoed 
the  bird  songs,  and  learned  strange  things  from  the  new 
land  where  the  atmosphere,  pure  and  luminous,  had  its 
own  charm,  and  each  day  was  a  golden  promise  taking 
her  nearer  to  Marco. 

At  Guadalajara  there  was  a  week  of  rest  and  enter 
tainment  ere  we  went  into  the  wilder  lands  of  the  north. 

These  were  adventurous  days  to  me,  and  I  strove  to 
read  the  brown  faces  of  the  Indians  who  brought  out 
great  baskets  of  corn  for  us  from  their  little  rancherias. 
They  were  courteous  in  many  ways,  but  a  sad  people, 
and  I  wondered  by  what  manner  Tristan  and  Don  Fer 
nando  had  found  the  way  to  their  dark  minds. 


THELOVETRAIL  177 

Sancha  at  times  gathered  the  little  naked  children 
about  her  and  to  their  delight  gave  them  beads  of  glass, 
and  they  would  follow  after  her  to  the  great  distress  of 
Mother  Maria  Clemente,  who  could  by  no  means  come 
by  cloth  to  clothe  them  all,  and  lamented  that  the  smaller 
ones  had  seldom  any  cover  other  than  the  shade  of  their 
vine  covered  ramadas,  or  at  best  a  coat  of  mud  when 
near  an  arroyo. 

But  Sancha  had  joy  in  them  in  her  own  way,  and  de 
clared  that  their  brown  skin  was  a  thing  of  beauty,  and 
their  nakedness  not  a  thing  to  offend,  as  could  easily  be 
with  a  people  of  white  race.  Thus  our  Indian  guide  who 
heard  this  found  way  to  have  the  freshest  and  ripest 
melons  brought  to  the  maid  who  laughed. 

Padre  Jose  had  a  good  word  to  say  for  her  to  Mother 
Clemente,  for  of  such  souls  —  so  he  said  —  came  the 
good  workers  in  the  Lord's  vineyard.  The  primitive 
mind  responds  always  to  the  happy  heart  —  and  the 
heart  of  Sancha  was  full  of  a  joy  not  to  be  overshad 
owed  by  trials  and  mishaps  of  the  journey. 

For  we  had  mishaps  of  many  sorts,  also  word  discour 
aging  to  Mother  Maria  Clemente  in  regard  to  that  far 
northland  of  pagans  eager  for  divine  grace.  By  reports 
of  a  lay  brother  who  was  on  the  way  south  with  mes 
sages  to  the  Franciscan  convent  at  Queretaro,  they  were 
vastly  more  eager  for  new  arms  of  the  Castilian  in  order 
to  fight  each  other.  The  horses  had  been  all  stolen  from 
a  mission  north  of  the  Haqui.  No  maize  had  been 
planted  in  the  low  lands  of  the  rivers,  and  word  had 
come  south  for  stronger  guard  at  the  few  presidios  of 
Sonora. 

All  this  made  no  proper  impression  on  the  mind  of 


178      THE    HOUSE    OF    THE    DAWN 

Sancha  except  anxiety  for  Marco.  She  asked  all  the  re 
ports  of  the  cavalcade  going  into  New  Granada,  and 
had  joy  to  know  that  it  was  after  their  passing  in  safety 
that  the  tribal  outbreak  had  come  between  Indians  of 
the  hunting  grounds  of  the  eastern  highlands  and  the 
lowland  people  of  the  rancherias. 

The  grave  black  eyes  of  the  Indies  looked  at  us  with 
inquiry  as  these  tales  were  repeated  in  various  forms 
through  the  weary  weeks  of  the  journey.  Some  of  the 
packers  understood  Castilian,  and  in  many  of  the  towns 
were  the  descendants  of  red  slaves  captured  at  the  north 
in  earlier  days.  The  deserts  of  their  land  and  poisoned 
arrows  and  foul  wells  had  taken  rich  toll  for  the  cap 
tured  slaves,  and  to  my  mind  their  eyes  had  the  silent 
question  as  to  whether  we  might  not  add  to  that  toll 
claimed  by  the  wide  ranges. 

At  Culiacan  came  the  final  outfitting  ere  we  left  be 
hind  all  the  life  of  cities.  Beyond  that  we  could  only 
hope  to  find  Indian  ranches,  an  occasional  mission  with 
its  many  visilas,  and  the  rare  presidio  with  its  handful 
of  men  as  guard  over  a  land  half  the  size  of  Portugal. 

Sancha  bought  strings  of  beads  many  colored,  in 
thought  for  the  brown  children  and  their  pagan  mothers, 
also  bright  ribbands  and  scarlet  cloth,  but  as  it  fell  out, 
she  might  as  well  have  saved  herself  the  costly 
troubles. 

It  is  ill  remembering  occurrences  and  incidents  of  a 
long  trail  when  each  day  carries  us  over  a  changing  land. 
The  Indian  names  of  the  wells,  and  the  hills,  the  rivers, 
the  arroyos,  were  such  as  no  Christian  soul  could  re 
member  or  repeat  a  day  after  passing  over.  The  early 
mission  fathers  gave  to  nearly  all  of  them  a  good  saint's 


THE    LOVE    TRAIL 

name  as  they  passed,  but  the  next  one  who  came  did 
the  same  thing  according  to  his  likings,  and  no  two 
maps  yet  made  have  much  likeness  to  each  other  away 
from  the  coast,  but  only  by  keeping  inland  could  be 
found  the  wells  and  pastures  for  the  cattle.  Of  wild 
life  —  our  hunters  sometimes  sighted  deer  on  the  mesas, 
and  there  were  birds  strange  to  us  and  of  wondrous  col 
oring.  Natives  were  sometimes  waiting  on  our  trail 
with  quills  of  fine  gold  to  exchange  for  anything  we 
might  offer,  but  when  asked  from  whence  it  came,  they 
evaded  reply,  or  in  one  case,  a  man  made  statement  that 
it  came  to  the  earth  by  the  hand  of  Elder  Brother. 
Mother  Clemente  was  startled  to  discover  that  they 
called  their  god  by  this  familiar  title  —  also  by  another 
which  I  do  not  recall.  To  her  pious  mind  each  was  to 
be  reprimanded,  which  proved  difficult  because  of  the 
lack  of  a  common  speech. 

But  Sancha,  riding  beside  me,  smiled  in  kindness  on 
the  poor  pagan,  and  gave  him  some  white  beads. 

"  For  the  '  Mother  Moon,' "  she  said,  and  the  inter 
preter  looked  at  her  in  a  way  curious,  for  he  was  a 
Christian  and  the  son  of  a  Castilian  father. 

But  for  all  that,  he  put  it  into  the  language  of  the 
Indio,  who  breathed  on  her  hand,  and  went  away,  and 
at  a  bend  of  the  trail  far  ahead  he  was  waiting  and  with 
him  was  his  wife  with  honey  of  the  hills  in  a  painted 
bowl.  To  Sancha  it  was  offered,  and  she  held  such  dis 
course  with  them  as  might  be  with  gestures  of  the  hand, 
and  smiles,  and  looks  of  the  eye.  Thus  were  the  long 
hot  days  broken  by  things  pleasant  to  help  us  forget  the 
otherwise  unfriendly  land. 

"  You  see  how  wonderful  it  would  be  on  this  journey 


i8o      THE    HOUSE    OF    THE    DAWN 

of  adventure  if  Marco  was  here  rather  than  ahead  of  us 
—  from  him  I  learned  that  they  pray  to  the  Mother 
Moon,  and  see  you  what  a  friend  it  has  made  for  me !  " 

"  Mother  Maria  Clemente  is  saying  a  prayer  for  you," 
I  cautioned,  "  and  surely  the  interpreter  has  his  wonder 
ment.  How  should  a  pious  lady  of  degree  in  Spain  learn 
of  pagan  gods  in  Mexico?" 

But  all  the  words  of  the  letters  were  sacred  to  her 
because  of  the  lover  who  wrote  them,  and,  to  my  incon 
venience,  she  expected  me  to  be  wise  because  I  had 
lived  in  the  radiance  of  his  countenance.  It  was  even 
a  worse  thing  when  she  called  me  in  the  night,  or  at 
early  dawn,  to  tell  her  things  of  the  stars  as  they  came 
over  the  mountains  of  the  east,  and  in  my  hearing  she 
more  than  once  said  good-night  to  King  Polaris!  We 
watched  together  the  stars  in  which  she  saw  the  Indian 
serpent  and  eagle,  and  took  note  of  other  things  of  the 
night  and  the  wilds  such  as  was  no  part  of  the  natural 
education  of  a  maid  of  her  family. 

Thus,  while  every  soul  who  goes  into  the  pagan  lands, 
has  his  own  troubles,  I  had  more  than  my  own.  Mexico 
City  had  seemed  a  good  place  to  get  away  from,  yet 
there  were  hours  when  I  would  have  had  joy  to  change 
the  northern  trail  for  any  safe,  sheltered  abode  there 
even  though  it  bristled  with  iron  bars.  The  good  nuns 
had  their  recompense  in  thought  of  the  souls  they  might 
save  for  God,  but  I  had  only  the  devilish  certainty  that 
I  was  helping  take  her  nearer  to  Marco  and  her  false 
dreams. 

At  the  fording  of  the  Del  Fuerte  an  accident  brought 
us  ill  luck  in  that  Padre  Jose  had  a  fall  by  his  horse 
going  into  a  sink  hole.  He  was  dragged  out  with  some 


THELOVETRAIL  181 


bruises  and  a  broken  leg,  and  there  was  no  other  thing 
to  do  than  bind  it  with  split  wood,  and  make  a  litter  on 
which  he  was  started  back  to  the  presidio  in  Sinaloa. 
This  took  two  men  and  two  burros  from  our  cavalcade, 
and  we  could  ill  spare  them. 

We  had  reached  the  land  of  the  Haquis  who  were 
at  war  with  their  neighbors  on  the  east,  and  a  double 
guard  was  kept  each  night.  Thus  the  loss  of  Padre 
Jose  was  important.  The  nuns  had  been  aided  by  his 
advice  in  all  things,  and  the  camp  felt  the  lack  of  spir 
itual  guidance  until  such  time  as  the  unfortunate  priest 
could  reach  a  mission  and  send  a  substitute  to  follow 
after. 

We  were  aware  that  we  were  watched  by  Indies  in 
the  wilderness,  and  from  the  mesas,  but  they  showed 
no  ill  will,  and  we  were  put  to  inconvenience  by  not 
finding  the  families  at  the  temporales  or  summer  ranch- 
erias  where  their  farms  were.  We  had  counted  on 
their  local  guidance  as  to  water  for  the  beasts,  and  more 
than  once  went  far  either  east  or  west  of  the  trail  for 
lack  of  that  aid  upon  which  we  had  been  assured  all 
travelers  could  depend. 

All  of  one  morning  we  had  been  journeying  along  a 
dry  arroyo  bed  because  of  tracks  of  horses  and  burros 
there.  With  the  hope  that  they  were  heading  for  water 
and  knew  where  to  find  it,  we  could  think  of  no  better 
way  than  to  follow  after. 

Desert  willow  was  there,  and  palo  fierro  trees,  and 
at  every  turn  our  hopes  were  high  that  a  well,  or  even 
a  camp,  might  be  found.  The  hills  on  the  east  came 
near,  and  in  any  land  we  had  known  there  would  be 
wells  somewhere  in  the  canons. 


182     THE    HOUSE    OF    THE    DAWN 

Thus  I  rode  ahead  alone  while  the  scouts  were  spread 
out  like  a  fan  north  and  west  in  search  of  water  as 
marked  on  a  map  of  the  trail.  Sancha  begged  to  go  also, 
but  for  once  I  was  ungallant  enough  to  refuse,  though 
the  greatest  joy  I  had  on  the  long  way  was  when  we 
rode  together  ahead  of  the  others,  and  she  remembered 
poems  or  romances  and  repeated  them  for  me  —  and 
called  me  at  times  the  name  of  the  hero,  and  made  pre 
tense  that  she  was  a  captive  Moorish  maid  whose  soul 
I  was  to  save  by  my  own  piety.  This  last  jest  was  be 
cause  of  her  joy  in  frightening  me  by  spiritual  converse 
with  the  pagans,  of  whom  she  asked  no  questions,  but 
would  offer  a  flower,  or  make  them  the  sign  of  the  cross, 
and  the  circle  in  the  north  sky,  and  looked  with  a  child's 
reverence  on  their  prayer  things,  until  I  was  bewildered 
between  her  jests  and  her  strange  way  of  standing  well 
with  them.  All  my  reason  told  me  that  a  proper  maid 
should  have  a  godly  fear  of  these  as  had  the  nuns  —  but 
not  Sancha. 

Yet  I  rode  away  from  her  through  the  white-green 
brush  of  the  arroyo,  troubled  over  delays  and  mishaps 
of  the  journey,  and  with  ever  near  me  the  fear  of  danger 
for  her  in  the  wilderness,  also  a  dread  of  that  day  when 
she  must  know  the  difference  between  a  pictured  lover 
of  childhood,  and  the  man  whose  thoughts  held  her 
heart  as  in  a  net. 

Then,  suddenly,  my  horse  stopped  short  in  fear  in 
the  willows,  and  I  saw  a  small  huddled  figure  of  a 
woman  on  the  ground  with  her  back  to  me,  and  the 
sound  of  her  weeping  came  to  me  while  the  cast  of  a 
lance  away,  a  man  bent  over  a  dead  Indio  to  place  it  in 
a  shallow  grave  scraped  in  the  sand. 


THELOVETRAIL  183 

He  turned  at  sound  of  the  horse,  and  stood  erect, 
but  I  knew  him  at  sight  of  the  shoulders  and  the  strong 
hand  below  the  monk's  sleeve  —  it  was  Tristan ! 

The  thought  of  him  had  been  so  close  to  me  through 
all  the  many  leagues,  that  I  should  not  have  had  affright 
to  look  on  him.  Yet  so  afraid  was  I  that  I  fairly  fell 
from  the  horse,  and  my  first  thought  was  of  gratitude 
for  the  broken  leg  of  good  Padre  Jose ;  which  was  a  sin 
in  itself.  But  Padre  Jose  would  have  known  Tristan. 

"  You  must  go  —  you  must  go !  "  I  heard  myself 
mumble.  "  If  anyone  knows  you  they  will  take  you 
back  to  death !  " 

"  Not  from  here,"  he  said,  and  the  Indian  woman 
came  and  stood  beside  us  and  her  looks  at  me  had  no 
kindness  in  them.  Tristan  put  his  hand  on  my  shoulder 
and  looked  at  her. 

"  Quatzi  "  —  he  said  —  "  friend  of  mine,"  then  she 
nodded  her  head,  and  looked  at  the  dead  man,  but 
turned  quickly  away  again,  tears  of  grief  in  her  eyes. 

I  wondered  not  that  she  turned  away,  for  the  face 
of  the  man  was  no  longer  a  face,  a  poisoned  arrow  had 
pierced  the  cheek  and  death  had  come  only  after  all 
the  bones  were  bare. 

"  She  is  of  a  north  tribe  —  enslaved  and  knew  not  the 
remedy  for  poison  of  the  south,"  said  Tristan,  "  so  I 
found  him  thus.  Their  rancheria  is  beyond  the  mes- 
quite  trees  above." 

"And  water,"  he  said,  making  a  sign  to  the  woman 
who  took  the  horse  and  left  us  to  bury  her  man.  But 
ere  the  sand  was  over  him,  there  was  a  sound  of  other 
feet,  and  two  of  our  guard  rode  up  with  questions. 

But  they  were  men  of  Puebla,  and  saw  in  Tristan 


i84      THE    HOUSE    OF    THE    DAWN 

only  a  lay  brother  performing  a  pious  duty  —  his  face 
meant  nothing  to  them. 

But  the  older  man,  Salvadore  Serri,  was  given  joy  and 
courage  even  at  sight  of  the  robe,  and  plead  with  all 
respect  that  Tristan  come  with  haste  to  comfort  Mother 
Maria  Clemente  by  word  of  these  warring  tribes,  and 
tell  us  all  how  to  avoid  meeting  them  on  the  road  to 
Kavorka. 

"  It  is  true  then  that  women  of  religion  are  to  risk 
their  lives  here  as  men  do  —  and  for  what?"  asked 
Tristan,  but  Serri  scarcely  heeded,  so  full  of  gladness 
was  he  that  a  man  who  knew  the  land  had  met  them, 
and  one  who  knew  also  the  places  of  water. 

From  first  to  last  I  was  tongue-tied;  first  with 
the  surprise,  and  horror  of  the  dead  Indio  by  which  I 
was  made  sick,  then  when  Serri  rode  up.  Tristan  had 
no  look  or  word  for  me.  He  took  the  horse  offered 
and  they  rode  away  to  camp  while  I  could  follow  as 
might  be  when  the  pagan  woman  led  back  my  horse. 

But  she  would  not  speak  to  me,  though  I  had  seen 
she  understood  Castilian,  she  sat  herself  down  again  in 
the  sand  as  if  I  had  never  ridden  that  way  to  disturb  her. 

I  reached  camp  as  Mother  Clemente  was  speaking 
her  pleasure,  and  thanks  to  God  that  a  traveled  man 
was  with  them  on  the  trail.  As  no  euro  was  now  with 
us,  she  declared,  it  was  a  blessing  from  heaven  that  we 
had  been  without  water  and  left  the  road  to  seek  it  as 
we  did. 

"  But  I  am  not  in  orders,  Holy  Mother,"  said  Tristan, 
"  I  have  only  been  an  assistant  with  the  Indies  for  men 
more  exalted." 

"  Then  be  our  assistant  since  no  one  else  can  have 


THELOVETRAIL  185 

greater  need,"  she  said  in  pleading,  and  I  could  see  by 
his  face  that  he  was  like  to  yield. 

"  I  have  a  task,  set  for  New  Granada,  and  go  north 
as  soon  as  may  be,"  he  said.  "  But  that  can  be 
after  I  have  seen  you  safe  to  your  mission,  though  I 
am  earnest  to  persuade  that  you  go  back  on  the  trail 
and  rest  at  Sinaloa  while  this  tribal  trouble  rages.  It 
is  wider  than  you  know.  There  will  be  no  maize 
planted,  and  in  the  hungry  months  the  Indies  will  dig 
roots  and  go  to  the  hills  for  seeds  of  the  trees.  You  and 
your  holy  ladies  cannot  live  in  that  way,  Excellencia. 
You  can  only  make  Christians  of  Indios  if  you  have 
food  to  offer." 

"  Then  the  food  will  come  if  the  work  is  to  be  blessed 
by  Our  Lady,"  declared  Mother  Clemente.  "  Were  not 
the  fathers  of  the  church  fed  in  the  deserts  by  the  grace 
of  God?  and  is  not  our  cause  worthy?  We  will 
continue." 

"  You  are  a  good  soldier,  Mother,"  said  Tristan,  "  and 
while  I  do  go  with  you,  I  give  you  earnest  warning 
that  this  war  of  the  tribes  is  not  a  little  thing.  If  they 
come  together  where  we  are,  your  guard  is  not  strong 
enough  to  turn  them  back.  I  have  been  tardy  for  my 
own  task  because  I  halted  to  work  with  them  for  peace 
—  but  the  fight  is  on.  I  have  already  had  Indio  friends 
killed  in  this  province  and  I  buried  one  this  day.  Also 
you  may  not  know  that  Indio  war  is  a  very  terrible 
thing." 

"We  will  continue,"  said  Mother  Clemente.  "We 
feel  more  safe  with  you  to  guide  us.  The  tent  of  Padre 
Jose  will  be  yours,  also  there  are  garments  his  guard 
could  not  bear  back  with  him,  all  these  are  for  the 


i86     THE    HOUSE    OF   THE    DAWN 

service  of  God;  I  bid  you  make  free  of  them.  Don 
Juan  de  Rivera  will  conduct  you  to  the  place  of  storage. 
Juanito,  my  son,  this  is  Senor  Alcatraz  whom  the  saints 
have  sent  to  us." 

I  made  my  bow  to  the  Senor  Alcatraz,  and  grinned 
in  my  sleeve  at  that  credit  given  to  the  saints,  for  to 
my  mind  the  devil  himself  was  taking  a  hand  in  both 
the  beginning  of  it  and  the  end  of  it. 

I  led  him  to  the  packs,  and  Salvadore  gladly  offered 
to  find  all  the  senor  cura  required,  and  bear  it  to  him. 
So  in  courtesy  I  led  our  new  guest  to  the  shelter  of  a 
palo  fierro  tree  where  my  horse  was  feeding  on  that 
gracious  herbage  of  the  Desert. 

"  I  look  in  sore  need  of  the  reverend  sister's  gifts," 
he  said,  looking  down  at  his  frayed  robe.  "  It  is  plain 
to  see  that  I  have  traveled  over  no  broad  highway  since 
leaving  the  fair  city.  I  bargained  with  Indio  friends 
for  a  deerskin  garb  —  it  was  moving  well  in  the  making 
when  this  war  swept  them  to  death." 

"  Tristan  —  you  trail  him  north  to  kill  him  ?  "  I  mut 
tered,  caring  nothing  for  his  garb,  or  his  pagan  tribes  — 
but  burning  hot  and  cold  with  my  fears.  Though  I 
spoke  low,  and  no  one  was  near,  he  put  his  hand  out 
in  warning. 

"  That  is  with  God,"  he  said,  but  smiled  as  he  said 
it;  and  by  the  smile  I  perceived  that  he  meant  neither 
God,  the  Father,  nor  anything  of  earth  to  keep  them 
apart.  "  She  is  there  in  Mexico  "  —  he  went  on  in  a 
low,  even,  strange  tone  as  though  it  was  a  thing  he  had 
said  over  and  over  many  times  in  the  solitude  of  desert 
days  and  nights.  "  In  all  her  purity  of  a  white  soul 
she  waits  for  him  there  —  no,  Juanito  —  do  not  speak ! 


THELOVETRAIL  187 

You  hid  it  from  me  until  I  saw  her  look  down  from 
the  viceroy's  balcony  with  that  fair  cat  beside  her.  Be 
tween  them,  when  he  goes  back,  she  will  be  trapped 
like  a  caged  bird,  and  serve  as  a  cloak  for  their  intrigue. 
And  north  beside  him  journeys  the  ruined  life  of  the 
maid  who  is  become  as  his  slave,  and  will  be  the  mother 
of  his  child.  This  the  Indies  have  told  me  who  saw 
them  pass.  At  one  presidio  he  even  tried  to  leave  her 
because  she  was  ill  —  to  leave  her  there  with  an  Indio 
woman  and  the  soldiers  of  an  otherwise  womanless 
camp  —  to  leave  her  there  as  the  toy  of  which  he  was 
weary !  This  came  to  me  because  of  the  quarrel  of  two 
soldiers  who  were  each  eager  to  marry  her  and  keep  her 
in  honesty,  and  thus,  Juanito,  will  you  see  our  little  song 
bird  Anita,  if  ever  you  see  her  again  on  earth!  So,  as 
I  say,  if  there  is  justice  at  the  throne  of  God,  the  Father, 
it  is  written  there  that  I  find  him,  and  see  him  sent 
to  hell." 

He  did  not  lift  his  voice,  nor  look  at  me,  but  as  he 
said  these  words  in  that  strange  even  way,  he  made 
me  see  all  he  spoke  of  —  and  see  it  with  the  deeps  of 
misery  held  in  his  voice  and  not  in  the  words  he  spoke. 
My  throat  ached,  and  I  choked  with  weeping  as  I  hid 
my  face  there  and  strove  to  speak  —  yet  could  not. 

Then  I  heard  him  rise  to  meet  Salvadore  to  whom 
he  gave  some  directions  regarding  horses  of  his  on  pas 
ture  near  the  rancheria  of  the  dead  Indio.  He  said  they 
had  a  friendly  guard  of  the  Pimas  there,  and  that  the 
woman  they  would  find  was  also  a  friend.  Then  I 
heard  my  name  mentioned,  for  Salvadore  could  plainly 
see  I  was  weeping,  also  I  was  shaking  with  terror. 


i88      THE    HOUSE    OF    THE    DAWN 

"  The  Sefiorito  de  Rivera  was  made  ill  by  the  sight 
of  that  dead  Indio  —  which  sight  was  indeed  a  terrible 
thing  to  view  "  —  stated  Sefior  Alcatraz.  "  Also  he  has 
a  chill,  and  will  have  a  fever  if  he  is  not  given  a  quick 
remedy  of  herbs.  Have  water  heated  that  I  may  pre 
pare  it.  As  to  the  robe  —  thanks,  senor,  I  will  don  it 
gladly  when  time  serves." 

Salvadore  Serri  gave  him  two  robes  rolled  together 
instead  of  one,  and  made  haste  to  the  cook,  thanking 
the  saints  that  at  last  we  had  a  man  at  the  head  who 
knew  the  thing  to  be  done,  and  how  to  do  it,  also  vow 
ing  that  my  chill  was  from  the  last  bad  well,  and  was 
proof  that  the  water  there  had  not  been  boiled  as  had 
been  the  order  of  Mother  Clemente. 

And  I,  filled  with  a  fury  of  resentment  at  thought  of 
bitter  tea  of  herbs,  and  at  the  easy  and  ungodly  lies  of 
Tristan,  got  to  my  feet  and  faced  him  standing  there  in 
his  rags  of  covering,  yet  ruling  already  the  camp. 

At  that  instant  it  was  that  Sancha,  seeing  my  horse 
browsing  off  the  low  branches  of  the  tree,  came  over 
the  sands  calling  to  me,  and  in  her  arms  were  long 
stocks  of  that  which  she  called  star  blossoms  because 
they  were  as  sunflowers  yet  not  so  big,  and  she  carried 
also  some  creeping  blooms  of  a  wonderful  blue  and  bade 
me  to  learn  the  name  of  it  for  her ! 

Not  until  she  was  near  did  she  see  that  a  stranger 
was  with  me,  and  was  staring  at  her  as  eyes  stare  from 
the  wooden  saints  of  the  Mexicans.  She  gave  him  no 
notice,  for  all  her  gaze  was  to  me,  who  stood  with 
tears  on  my  cheeks,  and  muttered  speech  of  anger  in 
my  mind. 

"  Juanito  mine !  "  she  breathed  in  a  frightened  way, 


THELOVETRAIL  189 

and  came  close,  the  yellow  flowers  of  the  sun  falling  at 
her  feet,  "  Juanito,  you  have  news  of  evil  —  is  it  so? 
Have  you  had  word  not  good  of  —  him?" 

She  half  whispered  the  last  word  in  her  fright,  and 
I  strangled  the  curse  in  my  throat. 

"  Sefior  Alcatraz  tells  me  I  have  a  chill  —  or  a  fever, 
and  that  is  all,"  I  growled  roughly,  "  may  one  not  have 
even  an  illness  in  peace?  " 

So  strange  was  a  cold  word  to  her  that  she  flushed 
red,  and  her  head  was  held  high  as  she  passed  over 
Tristan  a  slighting  glance. 

"  Such  chill,  or  fever,  seems  strange  in  its  sudden 
coming,"  she  stated,  "  and  since  you  know  not  which 
it  is,  your  new  friend  may  help  you  discover." 

She  turned  away,  and  walked  slowly  towards  the  tent 
of  Mother  Clemente,  while  we  two  stood  looking  at 
each  other.  But  her  good  heart  conquered  her  anger 
at  me,  and  she  called  back. 

"  When  your  spirit  is  more  friendly,  Juanito,  I  will 
hear  your  word  for  pardon." 

"  So  you  —  my  friend  —  have  cheated  me  also  in 
this?  "  he  said  with  frowning  eyes.  "  There  in  Mexico 
you  hid  from  me  her  coming,  and  here  in  the  Desert  — " 

Then  he  was  silent,  for  I  laughed  aloud  with  my 
tears  yet  wet  on  my  cheek. 

"  Yes  —  she  is  here !  "  I  declared,  freeing  myself  of 
the  horrors  over  which  I  had  been  all  but  strangled. 
"  She  comes  north  on  a  trail  of  love  to  follow  the  man 
of  those  letters  —  the  wonderful  lover  who  painted  the 
face  of  her  on  an  altar!  His  name  is  Marco;  she  is  as 
sure  of  that  in  her  heart  that  she  is  to  wed  with  him,  or 
die  a  nun  in  the  habit  she  wears !  Now  you  have  it  all 


igo     THE   HOUSE   OF   THE   DAWN 

—  the  things  of  which  I  have  cheated  you.    And  you 

—  you  go  north  over  the  same  trail  to  hunt  him  for 
death!     Is  it  not  enough  to  make  mirth  for  the  very 
devils  who  wait  for  him  there  in  hell?  " 

And  then  I  did  in  truth  have  a  chill,  or  a  fever,  or  a 
faint,  and  Tristan  lifted  me  in  his  arms  as  he  had  done 
on  a  night  long  ago,  and  carried  me  from  the  hot  sand 
to  shelter.  And  in  the  end  I  had  to  drink  of  the  de 
tested  tea  at  his  bidding,  and  the  only  comfort  I  had 
was  to  hear  Sancha  argue  against  it,  for  the  smell  of  it 
seemed  to  her  an  ungodly  thing,  and  she  had  her  fears 
it  might  be  a  poison. 

But  for  all  that,  it  was  poured  down  me,  and  was  the 
beginning  of  the  rule  of  Senor  Alcatraz  in  our  camps. 


CHAPTER  XIII 
THE  NEW  MASTER  OF  CAMP 

SANCHA  was  in  a  strange  way  rebellious  at  his 
rule  as  was  no  other.     Why  should  a  man  in 
rags  who  rose  up  from  the  earth  in  the  Desert 
step  thus  to  the  lead  of  things?    She  pitied  me 
much  for  my  sudden  attack  of  fever,  and  was  a  tender 
nurse  on  the  trail.    In  a  way  she  came  more  close  to  me, 
as  if  near  to  jealousy  of  the  stranger  to  whom  I  talked 
when  chance   offered.     It  was  the  first   time   I   had 
thought  for  any  but  her,  and  her  eye  was  keen  for  the 
knowledge  that  often,  though  we  did  not  speak  of  a 
matter,  this  Senor  Alcatraz  and  I  had  mutual  under 
standings. 

"Who  is  he  —  this  Senor  cura  who  is  no  cura?" 
she  demanded.  "  I  have  comfort  that  he  is  not  in  or 
ders,  for  confess  to  him  I  would  not.  Do  they  train 
the  priests  for  the  deserts  to  ride  like  that?  " 

"  Sanchita,  you  are  hard  to  please,"  I  said  as  reason 
ably  as  might  be.  "  Each  day  you  have  made  protest 
at  the  slowness,  and  the  wasted  time  in  morning  start 
for  the  trail.  We  start  now  at  starlight  and  the  cool 
of  dawn,  because  he  arranges  all  things  well." 

"  Also  he  has  an  unpriestly  pride,  and  looks  over  the 
heads  of  people,"  she  continued.  "  To  see  his  high  gaze 

191 


i92     THE    HOUSE    OF    THE    DAWN 

you  would  think  we  were  not  reasonable  beings  —  or 
that  we  did  not  possess  souls." 

I  could  have  laughed  at  that,  had  my  heart  been  gay 
enough  for  laughter,  for  I  knew  there  were  few  hours 
of  the  night  when  he  did  not  himself  patrol  the  tent 
where  she  slept,  also  I  dared  not  put  into  words  my 
question  as  to  reasonable  beings,  for  none  of  the  things 
we  were  doing  seemed  to  me  reasonable,  though  it  was 
not  in  my  power  to  change  any  of  them. 

After  two  days  when  affairs  moved  well,  though  the 
heat  was  great,  our  new  master  of  the  camp  made 
changes  by  which  our  plan  would  be  to  travel  at  night 
for  the  sake  of  the  horses.  The  moon  was  growing 
and  the  nights  of  the  Desert  were  as  a  land  of  enchant 
ment  under  the  stars.  With  a  week  of  night  travel  he 
hoped  to  ride  clear  of  the  roving  bands  of  Indies  who 
were  seen  more  often  now,  and  who  watched  us  but 
kept  their  distance.  There  was  no  longer  the  friendly 
barter  of  the  earlier  days. 

Mother  Clemente  and  the  nuns  said  their  prayers  and 
were  content  with  whatever  plans  were  made  so  long 
as  their  course  held  steadily  towards  Kavorka  and  the 
crop  of  pagan  souls  to  be  saved.  But  Sancha  laughed, 
and  asked  if  our  new  cura  who  rode  so  bravely  was 
afraid  to  ride  in  the  light  of  the  sun  lest  the  poor  pagans 
see  him? 

Unnoticed  by  her,  he  was  at  the  door  of  the  tent  when 
she  said  it,  and  he  stepped  into  the  light  and  spoke. 

"  It  is  true,  Excellencia,  that  I  am  afraid,"  he  said 
quietly  —  "  never  before  have  I  had  aught  so  precious 
to  guard.  If  it  pleases  you  to  think  it  is  a  coward's 
plans  I  make  —  get  your  laughter  out  of  it  while  you 


THE   NEW   MASTER  OF   CAMP     193 

may.  But  for  your  own  sake  I  ask  that  you  keep  to 
the  rules  of  the  camp,  for  we  need  every  man,  and  I  can 
ill  spare  one  for  even  a  slight  change." 

"  You  have  taken  a  man  who  was  my  special  servant 
and  added  him  to  your  guard,"  she  said  accusingly, 
and  at  that  he  smiled. 

"  I  could  wish  that  you  had  brought  a  cavalry  troop 
as  special  servants,  that  I  could  take  them  as  well,"  he 
said.  "  I  should  certainly  take  every  man  I  could  find." 

"Is  this  a  priestly  custom  in  your  Desert?"  she 
asked  turning  her  eyes  haughtily  towards  him,  yet 
dropping  them  at  his  steady  gaze. 

"  The  Desert  is  not  mine,  Excellencia,  else  I  should 
have  barred  you  out  of  it,"  he  said,  "  also,  as  I  have 
told  the  revered  Mother,  I  am  no  priest.  I  wear  the 
robe  of  one  because  at  times  it  has  been  permitted  to 
me  —  and  at  this  time  because  this  illustrious  company 
found  me  in  rags  and  showed  itself  generous.  My  one 
wish  is  that  I  may  show  service  in  return,  and  guard 
you  safely  to  the  place  you  seek." 

"  There  he  will  be  glad  to  see  the  last  of  us,"  she 
made  comment  as  he  bowed  to  her,  and  turned  away. 
"  You  see,  Juanito,  it  is  as  I  told  you ;  he  looks  over 
us  or  down  upon  us  as  if  we  were  children  playing  a 
trifling  game.  Also  he  steals  you  too  often  from  beside 
me,  and  our  long  talks  are  broken." 

"  But  think  of  riding  together  under  the  stars,"  I 
made  eager  suggestion.  "  It  is  a  most  perfect  thing  he 
has  made  the  plan  of.  Have  you  not  rebelled  each 
night  of  the  moons  that  we  had  to  sleep  through  the 
beauty  of  it?  He  has  done  the  thing  you  wished  to 
do  —  yet  you  have  only  disdain." 


THE    HOUSE    OF   THE   DAWN 

"  Why  should  he  know  my  wishes,  and  let  them  be 
done  as  if  it  was  to  humor  a  child  —  or  forbids  the  doing 
as  it  pleases  him?  There  is  only  one  man  in  the  world 
whom  I  want  to  know  things  as  this  man  knows  them. 
I  am  also  jealous  because  you  leave  me  to  seek  him  out. 
He  takes  from  me  everything,  and  he  would  bar  me 
from  the  land  if  he  could  —  you  heard  him  say  it." 

"  Sancha  dear,  so  would  I,"  I  confessed ;  "  and  I  be 
lieve  truly  that  if  we  ever  get  out  alive  from  these  end 
less  ranges,  it  will  be  because  of  the  man  you  do  not 
like." 

"  He  made  you  drink  that  stuff  of  the  herbs,  and  I 
cannot  conceive  why  you  should  take  his  part,"  she  re 
torted.  "  I  should  hate  him  for  that  if  I  were  you  — 
also  I  asked  him  not  to  make  you  swallow  it,  and  he 
did.  Everything  is  different  since  he  is  here  —  and  you 
no  longer  have  any  love  for  me." 

At  that,  of  course,  my  heart  was  all  but  broken,  for 
I  saw  the  anxiety  of  Tristan,  and  had  heard  the  careful 
orders  of  which  the  women  were  to  know  nothing.  He 
had  made  all  plans  for  their  safety,  yet  all  preparations 
for  their  death  if  need  be.  It  was  a  grim  and  dreary 
time  over  which  we  kept  up  pretense  of  light  hearts, 
and  I  was  accused  of  not  loving  her  when  I  could  have 
wept  in  very  terror  of  the  dangers,  feared  for  her. 

On  our  first  night  ride  Tristan  ranged  his  horse  beside 
us  in  the  warm  moonlight,  and  bent  his  head  to  Sancha. 

"  May  I  speak  with  you,  Excellencia?  "  he  asked.  It 
was  the  first  time  he  had  sought  her,  and  I  held  my 
breath  to  listen. 

"  Is  it  to  tell  me  again  that  I  am  not  here  by  your 
will,  Senor  Cura?  "  she  asked  mockingly.  "  When  you 


THE  NEW   MASTER  OF 

call  me  '  excellencia '  you  make  me  feel  ancient  as  my 
own  grandmother ! " 

"  I  could  wish  you  safe  with  her,"  he  said. 

"  My  thanks  to  you  —  but  she  is  dead !  "  she  retorted, 
"  and  if  I  were  with  her  someone  on  earth  must  needs 
say  masses  for  my  soul.  If  you  were  in  orders  I  might 
ask  you  —  but  as  it  is " 

"  As  it  is  we  will  all  pray  you  need  them  not  for  long 
happy  years,"  he  said  untouched  by  her  humor  or  her 
words.  "  But  prayers  for  life  are  needed  as  well  as  in 
death,  and  it  is  of  that  I  would  speak.  I  have  here  a 
thing  of  prayer  very  well  known,  and  very  sacred  to 
these  warring  tribes ;  will  you  wear  it  until  this  danger 
land  is  crossed?  " 

He  held  out  the  rosary  of  Fray  Fernando  with  the 
turquoise  and  shell  beads  in  among  the  brown.  She 
stared  at  it  curiously,  but  did  not  touch  it. 

"  I  am  well  provided  with  a  rosary,"  she  said ;  "  my 
own  is  of  amethyst  and  gold.  I  think  I  prefer  it  to  the 
brown  beads,  but  my  thanks  to  you." 

"  It  is  not  as  a  rosary  alone  I  offer  it,  but  because  the 
priests  of  many  desert  tribes  have  bestowed  the  beads 
threaded  here.  They  make  it  a  pledge  of  peace  and 
friendship  to  the  wearer." 

"  If  pagan  priests  had  aught  to  do  with  it,  I  should 
fear  it  bore  enchantments,"  she  persisted.  "  If  you  are 
brave  enough  to  carry  it,  Juanito  and  I  will  ride  in 
your  shadow  to  win  merit  if  it  have  any  —  but  to  wear 
it  I  should  have  fear." 

"  I  could  wish  that  Don  Juan  might  prevail  upon 
you,"  he  said,  and  said  no  more;  neither  would  she 
hearken  to  me,  for  she  said,  rightly,  that  I  knew  less 


ig6     THE    HOUSE    OF    THE    DAWN 

of  what  might  be  pagan  enchantments  than  did  she,  for 
the  sacredness  of  certain  prayer  thoughts  of  theirs  had 
been  written  to  her  very  wonderfully  before  ever  she 
journeyed  from  Seville. 

Whereupon  she  began  more  amiably  to  hold  converse 
with  Tristan  —  asking  of  the  ways  of  the  Indio  for  find 
ing  roads  in  the  darkness,  and  giving  special  notice 
when  he  pointed  out  the  northern  stars,  and  acknowl 
edged  to  knowing  a  few  of  the  Indian  names,  and  their 
importance  in  the  heretical  religions  they  professed. 

But  he  betrayed  no  special  interest  in  these  matters, 
and  did  little  to  quell  her  curiosity.  Never,  I  knew,  had 
she  seen  a  man  like  him,  and  nothing  in  her  well  or 
dered  life  had  ever  made  it  possible  for  a  man  to  arise 
out  of  nowhere,  and  without  intent  or  desire,  be  given 
the  ruling  over  respectable  and  pious  souls.  Her  re 
sentment  was  strange  —  as  if  she  shrank  from  the 
power  of  him,  and  even  tried  to  make  little  of  it  to  me. 
And  ever  and  ever  in  her  mind  she  compared  his  knowl 
edge  with  that  of  Marco,  and  found  it  very  much  of  the 
earth  cares  —  as  to  pastures  and  water  wells  and  herbs 
of  the  field. 

But  not  even  the  saints  in  heaven  could  hold  their 
own  in  her  mind  if  compared  with  Marco,  yet  she  was 
a  good  Christian,  and  would  have  been  in  rage  with  me 
had  I  said  that  in  her  heart  her  lover  of  the  letters  was 
a  new  god  enthroned. 

The  Pima  friend  of  Tristan  had  gone  back  to  the 
tribe  and  it  appeared  plain  that  the  peace  with  these 
people  had  been  marred  by  some  young  Castilians  of 
the  colonists  who  had  passed  north  to  New  Granada. 
The  Pima  girls  were  hidden  now  if  strangers  came. 


THE   NEW   MASTER  OF  CAMP     197 

"  Yet  Don  Juanito  says  there  was  a  woman  with  you 
back  there  at  the  wells  when  you  did  us  the  favor  to 
take  charge  of  our  camp  and  brew  bitter  tea,"  stated 
Sancha. 

He  turned  to  her  with  the  rare  smile  by  which  his 
face  was  made  a  different  one,  and  his  eyes  flashed  their 
natural  youth.  It  amused  him  that  the  herb  tea  re 
mained  an  unforgivable  cruelty  to  her  mind.  I  knew 
even  then  it  was  not  the  bitter  herbs  she  resented  —  it 
was  the  quiet  dominance  she  had  never  before  seen  ex 
erted  except  by  ruler  of  church  or  state.  It  affronted 
her  to  feel  such  dominance  in  a  stranger  who  came  in 
rags  out  of  the  desert  willows,  and  who  confessed  that 
even  the  rags  were  borrowed  garb !  Also,  except  in  the 
matter  of  the  beads  he  had  shown  no  disposition  to  be 
tray  that  in  his  mind  she  was  exalted  beyond  the  simple 
nuns  who  rode  whispering  prayers  in  the  moonlight. 
This  to  Sancha  de  Llorente  y  Rivera,  late  favorita 
exalted  at  the  viceregal  court,  was  a  change  she  could 
not  readily  bring  herself  to  understand.  She  had  raged 
to  me  that  her  sheep  herders  up  in  the  Sierra  Morena, 
where  her  people  were  masters  of  three  towns  in  the 
ancient  times,  would  not  dare  appear  before  her  so 
nearly  naked  as  had  he  in  his  ragged  habit  that  first 
day.  To  remind  her  that  she  had  admired  naked  skins 
in  the  brown  Indies  only  gave  her  an  impatience  with 
me,  though  Tristan  was  burnt  brown  enough  by  the 
desert  sun  to  satisfy  anyone  that  he  had  a  good  dark 
serviceable  coat.  Few  would  recognize  him  for  the  man 
of  the  prison  pallor  who  dared  raise  his  eyes  to  the 
palace  balcony. 

Yet  at  that  mention  of  the  bitter  tea,  and  of  the 


ig8     THE    HOUSE    OF   THE    DAWN 

woman,  his  smile  bridged  over  all  her  scornful  words  of 
pride. 

"  I  thank  your  saint,  whichever  one  it  may  be,  that  it 
fell  not  to  my  task  to  order  herbs  for  your  excellency," 
he  said  with  a  laugh  in  his  eyes ;  "  and  as  to  the  little 
woman  of  the  rancheria  —  she  has  left  her  field  of  maize 
and  calabashes  to  raiders,  and  travels  back  to  the  home 
in  Tusayan  for  which  her  heart  is  sick." 

"  Could  any  heart  be  sick  for  desert  life  ? "  asked 
Sancha  with  slight  belief,  "  and  where  is  the  home  —  a 
mud  hovel  by  evil  smelling  waters?  " 

"  So  far  from  it  that  I  could  scarce  convey  in  words 
the  marvel  of  the  difference,"  said  Tristan.  "  It  is 
scarce  to  be  believed  except  by  men  who  have  looked 
upon  the  carven  and  painted  temples  of  Palenque  or 
Mitla,  or  the  wonderful  pagan  palaces  of  Ho  in  Yuka- 
tan.  Not  that  there  are  such  carvings  in  the  north,  for 
there  the  people  are  as  an  island  of  civilization  broke 
free  from  some  mainland.  Secluded  thus  they  have  de 
veloped  more  slowly  —  yet  they  are  alive  today  and 
hold  to  their  original  gods,  while  the  great  body  of  their 
brothers  who  migrated  to  the  hot  lands  built  stupen 
dously  yet  died  as  a  nation  leaving  only  carven  records 
of  their  greatness." 

"  They  must  have  been  wicked  and  heretical  as  are 
the  Jews,  who  also  are  dead  as  a  nation,"  observed 
Sancha.  "  It  is  said  they  were  once  kings  in  their  land." 

"  They  yet  remain  kings  in  memory  so  long  as  the 
ancient  Hebrew  is  read,"  said  Tristan.  "All  the  poetry 
of  the  Christian  bible  comes  from  them." 

"  Perhaps  that  is  why  our  confessors  forbid  the  read 
ing  of  it,"  mused  Sancha.  "  I  had  not  thought  of  it 


THE  NEW   MASTER  OF  CAMP     199 

before,  for  I  knew  not  that  infidels  had  the  writing  of 
it.  Is  it  quite  true?" 

"  They  built  a  wonderful  foundation  of  a  wonderful 
edifice  —  and  gave  ages  to  the  building,"  said  Tristan; 
"  then  a  new  thought  was  grafted  upon  it  —  as  a  Nor 
man  tower  built  upon  the  frozen  music  of  a  Moorish 
temple,  and  the  weight  of  the  tower  crushed  its  beauty 
of  line,  and  the  fragments  are  now  scattered  abroad  in 
many  lands." 

"  H  —  m !  "  murmured  Sancha.  "  I  never  heard  a 
thing  like  that  before ;  but  the  church  gives  you  to  read 
things  not  allowed  to  women.  You  say  you  are  not  in 
priestly  orders,  yet  they  have  let  you  gain  knowledge 
of  priestly  things.  Tell  me  more  of  the  Indio  woman." 

At  that  I  smiled  in  my  silence,  for  the  question  of 
the  woman  had  been  curious  to  her;  my  own  knowl 
edge  had  not  been  enlightening. 

"  As  a  maid  she  was  stolen  by  the  Apache  at  a  time 
when  they  fought  her  nation.  They  are  the  Hopitu  — 
the  People  of  Peace,  and  they  live  in  great  houses  high 
on  rock  mesas.  From  the  lower  levels  they  are  seen 
afar  off  like  castles  of  enchantment  against  the  desert 
skies.  A  thousand  years  they  have  stood  there  as 
islands  of  civilized  people  in  the  heart  of  a  land  where 
other  tribes  live  in  shelter  of  boughs,  or  under  skins  of 
beasts." 

"  What  are  they  that  they  are  civilized?  "  persisted 
Sancha.  "  If  they  are  not  Christian  how  are  they  people 
of  reason?  and  if  not  that  —  how  civilized?  I  cannot 
see  them  as  you  say." 

"  No  —  you  could  not,"  he  agreed.  "  No  one  could 
see  them  by  the  eyes  of  another,  and  no  woman  who  is 


200      THE    HOUSE    OF    THE    DAWN 

white  has  ever  seen  them.  They  go  not  out  to  war,  yet 
are  not  cowards.  Their  religion  forbids  anger  or  spirit 
of  conquest,  and  they  live  to  their  religion.  They  wed 
with  one  wife,  and  she  is  ruler  of  the  children,  and  the 
home.  They  grow  maize  and  melons  in  their  fields  sur 
rounding  the  high  islands  of  stone  where  they  live. 
Their  weaving  of  garments  is  good  and  their  making  of 
burnt  vessels  of  clay  has  merit  in  beauty  scarcely  to  be 
given  belief.  They  are  gentle  people,  yet  very  strong 
people.  They  pray  much,  and  give  thank  offerings  each 
day  to  their  gods  of  the  sky.  Never  anywhere  have  I 
seen  such  peace  as  is  theirs." 

"  And  how  came  the  woman  so  far  in  this  land?  " 

"  She  was  traded  by  the  Apache  to  a  Pima  man  whose 
son  wanted  her  for  wife.  He  was  a  kind  man,  and  their 
home  was  a  good  resting  place  to  me  —  and  to  other  of 
the  Castilians.  Her  life  was  content,  yet  when  the  pois 
oned  arrow  of  the  Seri  struck  him  she  knew  naught  of 
the  art  of  healing  such  wound ;  her  people  have  none 
such  poison.  Thus  he  died  when  I  reached  him  too 
late,  and  I  bade  poor  little  Movi  go  north  and  weep  for 
him  among  her  own  people  and  not  in  a  stranger's  land." 

"  Why  should  she  weep  at  freedom  when  he  had  held 
her  as  slave?"  demanded  Sancha  in  high  scorn  —  "it 
betokens  a  mean  blood." 

"  Nay  —  love  held  her  —  and  he  gave  her  love,"  said 
Tristan.  "  Love  serves  freely,  thus  he  was  not  as  other 
men  or  masters  to  her.  It  may  be  that  to  woman  such 
love  makes  man  king  even  in  a  rancheria  of  small  fields. 
It  may  be  so." 

"  So  it  is,"  conceded  Sancha  after  a  silence.  "  I  per 
ceive  now  how  it  is.  He  was  the  greatest,  mayhaps, 


THE   NEW    MASTER   OF   CAMP     201 

she  had  ever  had  knowledge  of,  and  I  see  how  it  would 
be  if  there  is  truly  love;  but  how,  holy  father,  do  you 
know,  when  you  are  too  young  to  confess  women  or 
maids?" 

It  was  her  first  of  gay  mockery  with  him,  rather  than 
at  him,  and  it  told  me  that  the  good  nuns  with  their 
endless  devotions,  and  my  poor  art  in  providing  new 
amusements,  had  wearied  her  more  than  I  guessed  since 
it  drove  her  to  seek  distraction  in  fraternity  with  the 
man  she  disdained. 

I  already  felt  sadly  enough  my  own  lackings,  and  glad 
was  I  that  she  had  at  least  called  truce  to  her  jealousy 
of  him.  But  when  I  saw  him  looking  at  her  in  silence 
—  looking  at  her  with  a  gaze  belonging  to  moonlit 
nights,  but  not  to  her  desert  love  trail  to  another  man, 
my  heart  jumped,  and  again  I  seemed  to  hear  the  cold 
voice  of  the  viceroy  when  he  said  "  What  is  there  he 
has  not  dared?  " 

"  You  do  not  speak !  "  she  said  pettishly.  "  Juanito 
mine,  how  do  priests  in  convents  learn  of  pagan  loves?  " 

"  I  have  not  had  good  luck  to  be  a  priest  in  a  con 
vent,"  I  confessed,  "  and  no  one  has  taken  pains  to  teach 
me  loves  —  pagan  or  otherwise  —  for  my  own  use." 

At  that  she  laughed,  and  said  I  was  lacking  in  gal 
lantry,  for  she  had  herself  been  instructing  me  always 
to  slight  avail. 

"  I  said,  '  for  my  own  usage,'  "  I  repeated ;  "  to  look  at 
love  through  the  eyes  of  another  teaches  only  the 
hunger  of  love,  and  not  any  of  its  comforts  —  if  it  in 
deed  confers  comfort." 

"  Infidel!  "  she  laughed,  "  have  you  doubts?  " 

"Have  not  you?"  I  returned.     "We  take  this  trail 


202     THE    HOUSE    OF   THE   DAWN 

for  love's  sake,  and  what  comfort  has  it  gained  for  any 
of  us?  The  weary  weeks,  and  bad  water  and  now  a 
forced  trail  in  the  night  the  sooner  to  get  beyond  scalp 
ing  knives ! " 

"  O  —  Juanito  mine  "  —  she  breathed.  "  You  are 
right,  only  a  great  love  is  worth  it." 

"  Or  a  great  hate,"  I  said,  looking  at  Tristan. 

He  turned  his  horse,  and  halted  to  speak  to  Mother 
Clemente,  who  was  alarmed  at  a  fire  on  a  hill  to  the  east. 
To  her  it  looked  a  signal  of  danger.  He  assured  her 
that  it  was  from  the  west  the  danger  was  to  be  guarded 
against,  and  that  two  more  days  would  see  us  safe 
beyond  the  Pima  frontier. 

"How  is  he  so  wise?"  demanded  Sancha,  "or  does 
he  only  make  pretense  to  know?  If  he  is  not  a  priest, 
how  does  he  know  priestly  things?  " 

"Oh,  Sanchita,"  I  said,  "how  do  I  know?  He  tells 
us  he  has  traveled  with  mission  priests,  and  studied  to 
give  them  aid.  You  take  any  mongrel  on  trust  who 
begs  of  you  by  the  wayside,  yet  you  give  out  only 
bitter  thoughts  to  the  one  man  who  offers  you  the  most 
holy  possession  of  his." 

"  That  is  true,"  she  agreed,  "  he  did  offer  me  the 
beads  and  it  was  a  strange  thing  to  do.  Yes  —  I  will 
believe  with  you  that  he  means  well,  but  he  did  not 
make  answer  when  I  asked  how  he  knew  about  loves; 
he  did  not  so  much  as  speak  to  me  again.  I  have  con 
viction  that  the  man  owns  a  bad  conscience.  He  only 
looks  at  me  when  he  thinks  I  do  not  observe." 

The  night  wore  on,  and  the  dawn  came,  but  Tristan 
did  not  return  to  ride  beside  us.  At  times  he  was  far 
ahead,  and  at  other  times  he  halted  to  review  all,  and 


THE  NEW   MASTER  OF  CAMP    203 

waited  until  the  last  of  the  rear  guards  came  up.  Sancha 
grew  silent,  and  slept  at  times  briefly  in  her  saddle, 
drooping  like  a  tired  child,  but  rousing  as  her  horse 
made  an  uneven  step  on  the  wild  trail. 

The  sun  was  high  over  the  hills  of  the  east  when 
we  reached  the  next  waterholes  —  having  traveled 
nearly  double  the  distance  possible  under  the  hot  sun. 
Trees  were  there  and  grass  in  a  near  valley,  a  breakfast 
was  eaten,  and  shelters  put  up  for  the  women  where 
they  retired  for  the  sleep  they  so  sadly  needed.  I 
fell  into  sudden  slumber  with  my  head  pillowed  on 
my  saddle,  and  half  the  guard  slept  near  the  horses, 
with  one  of  their  number  as  sentinel,  the  others  with 
their  heads  under  any  shelter  to  be  found  near  the  camp. 

It  was  late  in  the  day  when  I  was  roused  by  voices 
and  smell  of  smoke,  to  find  the  cooks  busy  with  the 
evening  meal,  and  saw  Tristan  coming  into  camp  on 
foot  from  the  east,  and  without  a  word  stretched  him 
self  under  my  bush  and  settled  his  head  on  my  pillow 
wearily. 

"  Tristan  —  you  have  ranged  away  on  foot  while  the 
camp  rested.  Why  on  foot?" 

"  To  save  a  horse  for  the  night  —  much  depends  on 
their  rest." 

"And  what  on  yours?"  I  demanded,  excited  and  in 
a  bit  of  fear  at  sight  of  his  tired  face.  "  Where  have 
you  wandered  while  we  slept?" 

"  Three  leagues  east,  and  a  bit  north.  I  had  to  see 
the  old  men  of  the  clans." 

"  But  —  three  leagues  on  foot,  and  return  —  no  sleep 
—  and  all  this  hell  of  heat !  " 

"  Enough !    A  man  of  these  tribes  will  make  twenty 


204      THE    HOUSE    OF   THE    DAWN 

leagues  on  a  handful  of  pinole  to  munch  on  the  way. 
A  wayfarer  in  their  desert  must  do  as  well  —  or  fade 
out  of  the  land." 

"  The  guard  already  brings  in  the  horses,"  I  warned 
him ;  "  you  have  scarce  an  hour  to  rest." 

"  Then  —  if  you  love  me  —  give  me  that  hour, 
Juanito,  and,  boy,  prevail  that  she  wear  the  rosary." 

In  an  instant  he  slumbered  heavily.  I,  who  toss  and 
turn  to  nurse  myself  to  sleep  even  on  good  feathers, 
stared  at  him  in  awe.  To  me  it  was  scarce  a  thing 
of  nature  that  a  man  should  say  "  I  will  sleep,"  and  on 
that  instant  go  into  a  stupor.  Yet  that  is  what  he  did, 
and  I,  sorely  troubled,  still  stood  regarding  him  when 
Sancha  came  from  the  ladies'  bower  looking  fresh  as  a 
rose  in  the  cool  breeze  beginning  to  sift  from  the 
hills. 

She  came  over  to  me,  and  then  stood  in  her  tracks 
looking  down  upon  him  in  derision. 

"  I  would  that  Mother  Clemente  would  see  him  thus 
that  her  mind  could  be  at  rest,"  she  said  mockingly; 
"  the  good  lady  has  fear  that  he  never  sleeps !  Yet  each 
lazy  Indio  and  guard  is  up  and  alert  save  only  he !  " 

"  But  —  Sancha  "  —  I  protested,  and  took  her  hand 
to  draw  her  away  lest  her  voice  wake  him  despite  of 
all. 

She  shook  me  loose  and  pointed  to  him. 

"  O  brave  cavallero !  "  she  said  slightingly,  "  and  see, 
how,  even  in  his  stupor,  he  clutches  that  rosary  of  the 
Indian  gifts!  He  holds  to  the  pagan  enchantments  to 
guard  even  his  sleep  —  your  brave  cavallero !  " 

I  drew  her  away,  and  tried  to  make  clear  that  his 
sleep  had  been  slight  —  yet,  as  I  dared  not  alarm  the 

• 


THE  NEW   MASTER  OF  CAMP 


women  by  telling  the  dangers  he  feared,  my  words  were 
lame  and  careful,  and  she  would  not  even  listen. 

"Is  he  worth  so  many  words?"  she  asked  in  con 
tempt.  "  Because  he  talks  well  of  new  things,  and 
knows  the  water  holes  and  red  Indians,  you  and 
Mother  Clemente  speak  of  him  as  if  he  were  an  arch 
angel  sent  by  God,  yet  I  see  him  thus  when  off  his 
guard!  Find  other  idols,  Juanito." 

She  was  very  gay  over  this  because  she  thought  it 
teased  me,  and  I  perceived  it  was  not  a  good  time  to 
follow  his  request,  and  mention  again  the  beads. 
Because  the  Indians  of  the  palm  groves  and  the  little 
adobes  under  the  pepper  trees  had  been  to  her  as  grave 
yet  kindly  children,  she  could  not  see  that  the  savages 
of  wild  barrancas  and  brown  hills  were  a  different 
people,  thus  she  attached  no  importance  to  the  work 
of  a  master  of  camp  beyond  the  fact  that  this  one  had 
a  knack  of  making  the  packers  move,  and  that  we  cov 
ered  space  in  half  the  time  as  when  Padre  Jose  had 
the  word  to  give. 

The  supper  was  all  but  over  before  I  dared  let  Sal- 
vadore  arouse  him.  I  knew  he  counted  the  hour  of 
sleep  of  as  much  importance  as  food. 

Carefully  he  looked  over  every  horse  in  the  herd  when 
he  wakened,  and  saw  that  every  water  bottle  was  filled 
ere  he  gave  the  word  to  break  camp,  and  then  with 
a  quiet  word  to  Mother  Clemente  he  rode  on  ahead, 
and  out  of  sight  in  the  canon. 

Sancha  looked  after  him  with  impatience  in  her  eyes. 

"  It  would  be  but  civil  to  ask  us  to  ride  with  him," 
she  said ;  "  it  is  not  much  pleasure  to  ride  at  the  heels 
of  another  man's  horse.  You  see  how  he  has  changed 


206     THE   HOUSE   OF   THE   DAWN 

everything.  You  and  I  used  always  to  ride  at  the  head, 
and  have  races,  and  find  surprises." 

I  tried  to  remind  her  that  our  races  had  been  in  a 
country  where  all  the  roads  were  plain  —  and  where 
there  had  been  no  question  of  safety,  but  here  for 
forty  leagues  was  a  reach  of  land  of  which  the  rule 
might  change  in  a  day,  and  all  the  trails  be  blocked. 

"What  could  be  done  did  that  really  happen?"  she 
asked,  incredulous,  "  our  guard  carry  arms." 

"  They  would  only  be  a  handful  between  two  rival 
hordes  of  the  sierra  and  llano,"  I  said :  "  and  I  truly 
have  not  dared  ask  what  might  chance  if  we  did  ride 
into  one  of  their  battles,  but  the  most  likely  thing  would 
be  to  ride  back  to  Sinaloa  and  pray  for  a  better  year 
to  build  missions." 

"  Ride  back !  "  and  she  turned  startled  looks  on  me  — 
"  ride  back  I  would  not.  To  ride  over  these  hundreds 
of  leagues  to  meet  him  —  only  to  turn  and  ride  back  to 
Sinaloa?  No,  I  would  not.  Rather  would  I  ride  the 
other  leagues  north  to  New  Granada." 

"  That  could  never  be.  The  other  ladies  are  already 
much  worn  with  the  travel,  and  even  the  guard  did  not 
engage  to  fight  the  savages.  No,  they  would  turn  back, 
and  be  held  justified." 

"  You  commend  all  the  things  for  which  I  have  no  lik 
ing,"  she  complained,  "and  it  never  used  to  be  so  with 
you.  I  think  it  is  the  fault  of  that  man." 

Thus  she  at  least  gave  him  credit  for  strength,  since 
she  felt  the  influence  of  him  in  all  things. 

The  ride  thus  in  the  evening  was  as  through  hundreds 
of  wonder  pictures,  for  the  changing  lights  of  the  low 
sun  threw  strange  colors  back  to  the  sierras  —  yel- 


THE  NEW  MASTER  OF  CAMP    207 

lows  and  reds,  with  deep  purples  where  the  shadows 
were.  On  the  llanos  to  the  west  high  fog  would  drift 
in  from  the  sea  of  Cortez,  and  cast  bars  of  shadow  over 
the  yellow  land.  There  was  no  darkness,  only  a  dim 
half  light  between  the  going  of  the  sun  and  the  rising 
of  the  moon,  and  the  tall  sahuaros  stood  out  like  gray 
phantoms  against  far  silver  hills. 

"  Yes,  it  has  beauty,"  agreed  Sancha,  "  but  it  is  a 
beauty  like  no  other  living  thing.  Each  rise  of  a  hill 
one  looks  to  see  some  castle  of  enchantment  in  some 
oasis,  and  there  is  only  an  arroya  or  a  tinajia,  and  we 
are  gladdened  if  there  is  water  for  the  beasts.  Also 
when  the  sun  goes  down  there  is  a  hush  about  it  all. 
Our  guard  do  not  sing  in  the  night  here  as  did  they  in 
the  palm  forests  of  the  south;  it  is  not  the  weariness 
of  the  trail  alone,  it  is  the  spirit  —  the  land  has  no  spirit 
of  joy." 

"  True,  it  does  not  seem  to  us  joyous,  yet  it  is  good 
to  watch  the  stars  come  out,  and  give  thanks  each  time 
of  waking  that  we  are  yet  guarded  safe." 

"  Safe !  safe !  "  she  repeated.  "  Now  again  you  repeat 
that  man.  I  grow  so  tired  of  his  strict  ruling  that  I 
can  almost  feel  myself  riding  in  spite  of  him  far  ahead, 
for  the  adventure  of  it." 

"  For  all  our  safety  do  not  dare  that  until  he  gives 
us  the  word,"  I  pleaded,  and  would  have  said  more, 
but  she  laughed  at  me. 

"  Dare?  "  she  said,  "  and  —  wait  his  word?  Have  you 
then  forgot  that  we  De  Llorente  y  Rivera  let  not  even 
the  priests  think  for  us?  Why  then  a  priest's  robe?  " 

To  quell  her  rebel  spirit,  I  talked  of  Marco,  and  the 
fact  that  he  was  now  safe  in  the  turquoise  land  of 


208     THE    HOUSE    OF   THE   DAWN 

New  Granada,  and  she  fell  a  wondering  if  there  were 
white  butterflies  there,  and  the  things  of  flower  and  field 
loved  by  him,  and  then  she  was  back,  discoursing  of  his 
wondrous  letters,  and  his  genius,  and  the  bigness  of 
his  mind  that  he  sought  no  credits  for  the  pious  work 
of  the  picture  in  the  chancel ! 

So,  no  matter  which  of  the  two  men  we  talked  of,  I 
had  my  own  troubles.  But  in  my  heart  I  had  no 
thought  but  that  when  she  learned  the  truth  of  Marco, 
she  would  decide  for  a  nun's  robe,  and  the  journey  into 
the  wilderness  for  planting  of  a  mission  was  a  most 
satisfying  novitiate  for  any  mortal  maid  of  proud 
temper. 

She  laughed  with  me  over  the  wisdom  of  primitive 
things  she  had  gained  in  the  Desert  —  of  making  fires, 
of  cooking  maize,  and  of  mending  things  with  leather 
thongs  or  thread  of  yucca.  For  a  jest  she  had  mended 
with  yucca  thread  that  day  her  robe  torn  on  thorns  of 
the  pale  fierro  tree,  and  she  confessed  she  had  patched 
the  pocket  in  which  she  kept  the  letters  of  love  always 
close  to  her. 

"  I  pray  each  night  and  morning  to  my  wonderful 
Saint  of  the  Impossible  that  at  some  turn  in  the  trail 
I  find  him  close  beside  me,"  she  said,  "  and  there  are 
times,  Juanito,  when  I  close  my  eyes  and  dream  that 
the  horse  beside  me  may  be  his  —  almost  I  reach  out 
my  hand  to  touch  him  —  so  real  is  the  sense  of  his 
nearness.  Does  that  seem  strange  to  you?  " 

It  did  not,  and  I  told  her  so,  for  she  had  lived  with 
the  thought  of  him  all  the  long  journey  until  the  thought 
was  part  of  her,  but  I  warned  her  no  other  would  under 
stand,  for  no  other  could  know. 


THE  NEW   MASTER  OF  CAMP     209 

"  He  will  understand,"  she  said,  and  her  eyes  were 
all  aglow  in  the  moonlight  as  she  looked  at  me.  "  O 
Juanito !  he  is  the  wonder  man  of  all  the  world,  and  it 
is  as  though  his  heart  was  beating  here  in  my  breast. 
I  waken  in  the  night  and  feel  that  he  is  close  even 
though  I  have  not  been  dreaming  of  him  —  it  is  very 
strange,  that!  Think  you,  Juanito,  that  it  is  because 
he  has  ridden  his  horse  over  these  wilderness  trails 
ahead  of  me?  Now  —  this  instant  —  it  is  as  if  around 
the  mesa  we  will  find  him  waiting." 

She  laughed,  and  lifted  her  hand,  and  her  horse  broke 
into  the  easy  lope  of  the  range  while  I  followed  with 
what  haste  I  could,  yet  urging  her  not  to  go  beyond 
sight  of  the  cavalcade. 

And  around  the  foot  of  the  mesa  was  Tristan,  his 
horse  across  the  trail  —  black  shadow  against  the  night 
silvers  by  which  the  desert  was  all  a  gray  garden  under 
the  moon.  She  pulled  her  horse  up  short. 

"  Santa  Maria  and  Santa  Rita !  "  she  whispered  as  if 
in  fear.  "  That  is  how  it  is  at  each  turn !  I  wish  for  the 
one  man  in  all  the  world,  and  ever,  for  my  sins,  the 
one  sent  is  the  one  who  makes  me  have  fear,  or  I  know 
not  what!  Juanito,  does  it  not  seem  a  thing  of  reason 
to  you  that  the  pagan  beads  of  that  rosary  are  of  evil 
enchantings?  " 

I  made  the  sign  of  the  cross  for  fear  it  might  be. 
My  own  doubts  and  troubles  were  many. 

Yet  his  presence  there  was  a  simple  matter,  for  he 
but  stood  across  the  trail  and  talked  with  an  Indio  who 
spoke  briefly  and  softly  in  the  shadows,  and  then  faded 
away  again  among  the  low  shrubs  and  strange  shapen 
cactus. 


210     THE    HOUSE    OF   THE    DAWN 

Tristan  turned  to  us,  and  I  could  see  he  was  troubled. 

"  We  must  take  great  care,  yet  cover  ground  this 
night,"  he  said.  "  The  Pima  sentinels  are  watching 
from  the  hills  and  see  the  Haquis  come  in  large  bodies 
from  the  west." 

"  Yet  they  travel  on  foot  while  we  have  horses,"  I 
observed. 

"  That  is  true,"  he  said,  "  but  footmen  can  run  ahead 
of  horses  on  this  trail,  and  we  need  to  take  each  short 
cut  until  the  great  body  of  Pimas  and  Papagoes  are 
reached." 

Sancha  talked  to  her  horse,  and  petted  him,  and  could 
not  credit  that  a  footman  could  outdistance  him,  also 
she  had  confidence  in  our  guard  brought  from  the 
south. 

Tristan  looked  at  her,  noting  her  pettish  humor,  and 
rode  in  silence  near  us,  and  after  awhile  finding  no  one 
to  argue  with,  she  too  fell  silent  with  weariness  as  the 
night  wore  on,  and  Tristan  took  the  reata  and  led  her 
horse,  so  that  often  she  slept. 


CHAPTER  XIV 
RIDING  THE  TRAIL  ALONE 

THE  dawn  broke  with  coral  pink  beyond  the  blue 
walls  of  the  sierras,  and  Sancha  aroused  to  the 
beauties  of  blossoms  of  pale  lemon  scattered 
among  the  shrubs  and  cactus  of  the  trail.  We 
were  in  a  pass  where  the  walls  narrowed,  and  the  space 
between  was  level  as  a  floor.  The  way  was  plain  before 
us,  and  she  looked  at  me  and  laughed. 

"  You  were  not  gallant,"  she  said  accusingly.  "  I 
thought  you  were  leading  my  horse,  but  when  I  wak 
ened,  it  was  that  man.  I  will  show  him  I  can  ride 
the  trail  alone,  also  that  I  am  tired  of  never  getting 
away  from  his  eyes  —  so  —  adios!  " 

She  lifted  the  bridle,  and  used  the  whip  only  one 
stroke,  but  the  horse  had  felt  it  seldom,  and  leaped 
forward. 

"  Sancha ! "  I  called,  but  she  lifted  her  hand  high  in 
salute,  and  rode  her  mount  to  the  utmost.  There  was 
nothing  to  do  but  follow,  which  I  did.  Tristan  was 
somewhere  at  the  rear  end  of  the  line  of  travelers,  and 
no  guard  followed  us.  They  thought  it  but  a  bit  of 
childish  play,  and  the  road  was  good. 

I  thought  little  of  the  road,  only  of  keeping  her  in 
sight.  Once  I  did  miss  her  in  the  jungle  of  low  growth 
where  another  canon  branched,  but  it  was  only  for  a 

211 


212     THE    HOUSE    OF    THE    DAWN 

moment,  and  I  rode  my  utmost  to  reach  and  hold  her 
by  force  if  need  be  until  Tristan  should  come  and  place 
her  in  the  very  middle  of  the  cavalcade  instead  of  at 
either  end. 

The  first  bend  took  us  out  of  sight  of  all  of  them, 
and  the  second  into  a  beautiful  canon  where  the  sun 
was  gilding  the  view  on  the  west,  and  the  sunflowers 
reached  to  our  saddles. 

"  Sancha !  Sancha !  "  I  called,  and  the  walls  echoed 
back  my  cry,  for  my  horse  labored  wearily  after  —  both 
animals  could  only  be  aroused  for  a  spurt,  but  her 
weight  was  the  less,  and  I  could  only  keep  in  sight  her 
robe,  or  high  flung  hand. 

Her  laughter  came  back  to  me  mockingly,  and  then 
one  scream  made  the  canon  walls  echo  strangely.  My 
heart  seemed  to  be  in  my  throat  as  I  rode  forward 
fearing  to  see  her  horse  fallen,  and  with  my  mind 
filled  with  visions  of  broken  bones  —  weary  leagues 
from  a  surgeon. 

But  it  was  not  a  fallen  horse  I  found  at  the  bend 
of  the  canon,  but  a  girl  with  a  very  white  face  sitting 
her  horse  in  still  horror  while  around  her  circled  a  sea 
of  red  brown  faces. 

My  first  thought  was  to  ride  forward  to  her  rescue, 
but  my  second  was  to  call  back  for  help  to  Tristan  — 
first  and  last,  to  Tristan! 

The  thought  was  scarce  formed,  or  my  bridle  touched, 
till  I  saw  how  useless  it  was.  From  a  side  canon,  the 
Indians  swarmed,  and  above  the  edges  of  the  cliffs  they 
peered,  and  there  was  no  calling  back. 

I  looked  in  their  faces,  and  without  word,  I  rode 
forward  and  halted  my  horse  beside  Sancha. 


RIDING  THE  TRAIL  ALONE      213 

"  Listen,"  she  said. 

I  did,  and  heard  back  of  us  the  echoes  of  firearms. 
The  guards  were  using  arquebuses  against  an  enemy  in 
the  rear. 

Even  while  we  listened,  the  groups  of  Indios  divided. 
At  the  word  of  a  man  who  stood  at  Sancha's  bridle,  the 
mass  of  them  raced  back  the  way  we  had  come,  and, 
with  another  brief  word,  a  score  of  the  devils  circled  us, 
and  our  horses  were  led  through  a  narrow  break  in  the 
cliff. 

I  looked  back;  four  men  stood  sentry  at  the  narrow 
pass,  and  behind  our  horses  walked  others  with  lances 
leveled,  and  the  points  of  them  were  the  sharp  cutting 
knives  of  smoked  volcanic  glass. 

"  Thus  have  you  shown  him  how  you  can  ride  the 
trails  alone,"  I  said,  furious  with  her  as  I  heard  the  far 
distant  reports,  and  the  savage  yells. 

She  only  looked  at  me,  and  I  felt  like  a  coward.  The 
Indios  watched  us  with  smiling  faces  in  which  there 
was  little  of  threat  —  they  were  rather  as  exultant 
children  who  had  made  an  unexpected  point  in  a 
game. 

There  were  no  words  to  us  —  only  the  dark  bodies 
trotting  ahead  and  back  of  me,  and  Sancha  at  times  out 
of  my  sight  in  the  winding  canon. 

Then  we  reached  a  wider  place  between  walls  where 
water  trickled  at  foot  of  a  cliff,  and  a  tree  of  size  spread 
wide  arms. 

Some  women  were  there,  and  a  fire  of  mesquite  poles 
sent  up  meager  blue  smoke,  while  a  boy  turned  a  rab 
bit  on  a  spit,  and  a  girl  heated  stones  to  cook  some  mess 
in  a  basket. 


' 


§jlg^§ig§§\ 

214     THE    HOUSE    OF   THE   DAWN 


All  let  go  their  tasks  to  stare  as  we  were  driven  in 
like  cattle  before  the  lances.  Sancha  won  most  of  their 
notice  for  no  white  women  in  nun's  robe  had  come  their 
trail.  Somewhat  in  awe  they  looked  on  her  until  her 
captor  pulled  her  roughly  from  the  saddle,  and  with 
some  words  in  their  devilish  jargon,  thrust  her  towards 
the  women. 

I  strove  as  I  might  to  reach  her,  for  I  had  still  my 
knife  —  and  the  orders  of  Tristan  were  plain  if  the  end 
came  for  the  women,  and  this  seemed  the  end. 

But  a  stroke  from  one  of  the  brutes  left  me  sense 
less,  and  when  I  came  back  into  knowledge  the  blood 
was  holding  sand  caked  against  my  cheek,  and  Sancha 
was  roped  to  the  tree.  Two  women  had  stripped  from 
her  the  robe,  and  a  boy  had  her  shoes.  Girt  as  she  was 
with  the  reatas  from  our  horses,  she  was  a  figure  of 
pitiful  appeal.  My  tears  blinded  me,  and  I  felt  for  my 
knife  —  but  it  was  gone! 

The  women  were  having  dispute  for  the  robe  and  the 
stronger  wrenched  it  free  from  the  grasp  of  the  other. 
As  they  did  so,  there  fell  on  the  sand  beside  me  the 
rosary  of  Sancha,  and  something  else.  One  woman 
with  a  squeal  of  laughter  saw  the  jeweled  strand  and 
let  go  the  robe.  I  had  lifted  the  rosary  and  gave  it  up, 
reluctant,  to  her  eager  clutch,  and  in  their  wrangle, 
and  in  the  new  treasure  trove,  neither  of  them  saw 
the  flat  packet  over  which  I  laid  my  arm.  Then  I  rose 
and  went  over  by  the  water  to  slake  my  thirst  and  wash 
the  sand  out  of  the  cut,  and  though  I  was  watched,  no 
one  halted  me. 

I  had  wonder  as  to  why  I  was  not  deprived  of  gar 
ments  and  liberty  as  well  as  Sancha,  but  I  soon  discov- 


RIDING  THE  TRAIL  ALONE      215 

ered  that  the  horses  were  being  given  water  for  the  trail, 
and  while  the  leading  Indian  took  Sancha's  horse  for 
himself,  I  was  tied  on  mine,  and  the  men  spoke  to 
gether  with  many  nods  in  my  direction,  and  back  to  the 
trail  we  had  come. 

It  seemed  clear  I  was  to  be  taken  with  them  while 
Sancha  was  to  be  held  in  camp  with  the  women  and 
boys.  The  tall  fellow  gave  some  scowling  directions 
indicating  that  the  girl  tied  to  the  tree  was  his  prop 
erty,  and  then  we  were  headed  back  between  the  cliffs, 
and  never  once  had  I  been  let  get  within  touch  of 
Sancha. 

"  They  have  not  harmed  me,"  was  all  the  word  I  had 
of  her,  "  but  your  head " 

The  Indio  riding  her  horse  heard,  and  smiled  with 
evil,  half  closed  eyes,  and  then  to  my  surprise,  he  spoke 
Castilian. 

"  No  time  for  women,  time  tomorrows,"  he  said. 
"  Now  you  people  learn  how  Pimaria  like  when  you 
take  their  maidens." 

As  I  had  taken  none,  or  had  will  to,  his  taunt  had 
no  sting  for  me  beyond  the  horror  of  the  thought  of 
Sancha.  I  was  certain  that  his  scowling  instruction 
to  the  women  was  to  guard  her  for  his  return  —  and 
Sancha,  perhaps,  like  myself,  without  a  knife! 

All  that  ride  between  the  cliffs  I  saw  not  the  arrow- 
bush,  or  the  mesquite  or  the  long  shadows,  but  Sancha, 
bare  armed  and  bare  of  foot,  bound  to  the  tree  trunk 
within  canon  walls,  and  the  evil-faced  native  smiled  as 
he  saw  me  striving  at  every  chance  to  loosen  my  bonds. 

"  No  good,"  he  said.  "  Take  you  to  make  talk  plenty 
good  —  many  horses  maybe  for  one  girl  Castilian." 


216     THE    HOUSE    OF   THE   DAWN 

Thus  I  saw  his  plan  to  make  a  deal  for  stock,  and 
hold  Sancha  for  ransom,  and  the  other  man  smiled  when 
he  said  horses  —  that  much  they  knew  of  the  white 
man's  language. 

"  You  are  not  Pima?  "  I  said  as  I  looked  from  his 
face  to  theirs,  and  they  ceased  to  smile,  and  stared. 

"What  is  your  medicine  to  see?"  he  asked.  "It  is 
true.  I  am  Apache  once  —  when  little.  Know  you  also 
my  father's  or  my  clan?  " 

I  perceived  that  my  careless  guess  had  given  him 
suspicion  that  I  had  power  of  divining.  I  remembered 
the  lore  of  Tristan,  and  used  it. 

"  Do  these  people  with  whom  you  live  mention  the 
names  of  the  dead?  "  I  asked  in  reproof.  "  To  tell  your 
clan,  and  the  name  of  your  father  might  bring  evil  on 
the  trail." 

"  That  is  true,"  he  said.  "  You  have  the  knowing. 
You  can  go  south  for  the  horses ;  a  man  of  medicine  we 
let  go  in  peace." 

To  go  in  peace,  and  alone,  was  the  last  thing  for  which 
I  craved.  My  prayers  were  silent  ones  as  we  went  on 
over  the  brown  sand,  and  fervently  I  remembered 
Sancha's  Saint  of  the  Impossible.  If  ever  the  seeming 
impossible  must  happen,  and  happen  quickly,  this  was 
the  time.  I  thought  ruefully  of  the  holy  beads  offered 
by  Tristan  and  disdained  so  lately  —  would  they  have 
proven  more  potent  than  the  jewels  of  gold  and 
amethyst? 

As  we  emerged  into  wider  space  between  the  walls 
I  perceived  the  thing  I  had  not  when  I  raced  by  eager 
to  keep  her  in  sight.  We  had  turned  into  one  lane  of 
rock  while  another  had  been  the  main  trail  where  a 


RIDING  THE   TRAIL   ALONE      217 

battle  had  been  fought.  The  trampled  sand  and  a  dead 
mule  told  me  little  of  the  outcome  of  it,  but  the  red 
men  scattered  north  and  south,  and  climbed  cliffs  like 
so  many  squirrels,  the  while  my  renegade  Apache 
looked  and  smiled  evilly. 

"  All  what  was  caught,  we  caught,"  he  said  with  sat 
isfaction.  "  The  Haqui  are  driven  back  with  the  thun 
der  arrows  of  the  white  men  —  and  look  you  here  — 
they  carried  with  them  their  dead." 

Then,  by  pretense  of  knowing  more  than  I  in  reason 
could,  I  learned  that  north  of  us  there  had  been  rights 
with  the  Haquis  the  day  before,  and  that  two  companies 
of  Pimas  had  been  waiting  in  the  gulch  and  on  the 
heights  to  trap  a  southern  group  of  their  enemies  who 
were  on  the  war  trail.  The  thing,  as  it  chanced,  had 
turned  in  a  different  way.  Sancha  and  I  had  ridden 
from  the  true  road  into  one  company,  and  our  friends 
had  met  the  fierce  Haquis,  and  each  had  retreated  —  in 
what  order  none  could  say. 

No  doubt  Tristan  thought  us  captured  by  the  Haquis, 
and  my  mind  was  certain  on  one  point,  the  retreat  of 
the  expedition  meant  —  perhaps  not  great  defeat  or 
injury,  but  the  willingness  at  last  of  Mother  Clemente 
to  accept  advice  of  Tristan,  return  to  Sinaloa,  and  wait 
a  more  peaceful  year  for  the  planting  of  a  sisterhood 
among  the  heathen. 

Men  from  above  the  cliffs  came  down,  and  told  of  the 
Castilians  turning  back  on  the  trail,  after  their  men, 
headed  by  their  priest,  had  fought  the  Haquis  and  made 
the  canon  walls  echo  fearfully  with  the  thunder  of  their 
arms. 

"  Have  the  Haquis  followed  the  trail  by  the  south?  " 


2i8     THE    HOUSE    OF    THE    DAWN 

asked  the  Apache,  and  by  gesture  and  tone,  and 
nods  of  the  head,  I  learned  they  had  not.  The  clash 
with  the  white  people  had  been  accident,  and  the  enemy 
of  the  Pima  were  not  eager  to  fight  against  thunder, 
lightning,  and  lead  hail. 

The  Apache  scowled  and  looked  at  me,  and  then  they 
sat  in  the  sand  and  talked.  His  plan  for  me  was 
changed  —  if  I  was  sent  to  ride  after  the  Castilians 
now,  it  would  not  be  horses  they  would  get  in  exchange 
for  the  white  maid,  but  more  of  the  same  gun  fire ;  also 
I  could  tell  how  small  was  their  own  company,  and  there 
would  be  time  to  call  on  help  from  other  Pima  clans. 

I  could  see  that  the  sullen  Apache  was  alone  in  his 
scheme  for  a  herd.  They  quarreled  among  themselves, 
and  one  man  pointed  to  Sancha's  horse.  Already  the 
Apache  had  one  while  the  Pima  men  walked.  It  was 
easy  to  follow  their  argument.  Through  it  I  learned 
that  the  Apache  was  called  Kasia,  and  when  no  settle 
ment  could  be  made  an  older  man  said  some  words  end 
ing  with  "  Matiwa,"  whereupon  all  nodded  and  said 
"  Matiwa  "  except  Kasia,  who  looked  sulky  that  he  was 
voted  down. 

Again  I  was  tied  on  my  horse,  but  driven  north 
instead  of  the  way  we  had  come.  Later  I  learned  from 
the  sulky  Kasia  that  Matiwa  was  an  older  chief  and  a 
Piman;  also  that  there  was  to  be  council  to  decide  if  I 
was  to  be  sent  back  to  ask  horses  in  ransom  for  Sancha. 
Evidently  his  adopted  brothers  were  not  so  eager  for 
trouble  with  Castilians  once  the  excitement  of  the 
adventure  was  over. 

But  ere  the  night  fell  we  learned  it  was  not  over,  for 
up  from  a  barranca  swarmed  nude  brown  bodies  follow- 


RIDING  THE  TRAIL  ALONE      219 

ing  their  spent  arrows,  and  my  captors  fought  back, 
but  a  running  fight,  for  they  were  outnumbered,  and 
out  of  the  scramble  the  horse  of  Sancha  leaped  riderless, 
for  Kasia  lay  with  an  arrow  piercing  his  eye,  and  a  lance 
thrust  in  his  throat. 

Another  Indio  leaped  on  the  horse  and  led  mine  out 
of  arrow  range,  and  as  I  had  no  mind  to  change  captors 
now  that  the  Apache  was  gone,  I  rode  right  willingly. 
To  my  surprise  the  enemy  did  not  follow ;  evidently  the 
two  horses  and  a  Castilian  rider  caused  them  suspicion 
that  the  Pimans  had  strong  allies. 

There  was  no  sign  of  grief  over  the  death  of  Kasia; 
he  had  been  a  strong  man  but  not  a  favorite  and  of  no 
blood  kindred.  His  going  left  me  even  more  alone,  for 
only  one  youth  had  few  words  of  Castilian  which  he 
used  with  little  meaning. 

The  dusk  of  night  came  on  as  we  reached  a  place  of 
water,  and  a  little  apart  from  it  was  a  small  shrine  place 
of  stones,  circled  crudely  by  the  dried  skeleton  ribs  of 
the  sahauro.  It  was  still  light  enough  to  discover  wil 
low  wands  to  which  bird  feathers  and  seed  pods  were 
tied  with  the  fiber  of  yucca  —  some  pious  pagan  had 
made  thanks  or  prayer  there  for  the  dribble  of  water 
in  the  pool. 

Stiff  and  sore  though  I  was  from  the  rope  and  the 
saddle,  I  was  alive  to  that  flat  packet  rescued  by  me 
in  the  canon  camp,  and  having  little  doubt  but  that 
my  garments  would  be  divided  as  were  Sancha's,  I  had 
cast  about  for  some  way  of  hiding  or  destruction  for 
the  letters  ere  the  fragments  of  them  be  used  for  charms 
in  medicine  bags.  To  attempt  burning  might  fail,  and 
the  shrine  place  was  the  only  likely  haven. 


220     THE    HOUSE    OF   THE    DAWN 

While  prno/e  and  a  bit  of  dried  deer  were  doled  out 
to  us,  and  the  horses  were  held  at  graze,  I  broke  four 
twigs  of  mesquite  evenly,  stripping  the  bark,  and  from 
my  shirt  tore  bits  of  linen  until  four  newly  garnished 
prayer  plumes  were  finished. 

With  solemnity  I  did  the  work  —  putting  aside  the 
parched  maize  until  the  prayer  was  made,  and  then  as  if 
not  noting  the  awe-struck,  curious  watching  of  all,  I 
arose  and  walked  slowly  to  the  little  hedge  of  the  shrine. 
With  gesticulations  and  bowings,  I  stood  by  it,  then 
knelt  with  my  back  to  the  men.  One  by  one  I  raised 
the  twig  with  its  shred  of  linen,  and  lifted  a  stone  that 
it  might  be  planted  firm.  Under  the  largest  of  the 
stones  went  the  packet,  and  it  was  a  true  prayer  I 
planted  there  though  the  way  of  it  was  pagan. 

I  felt  their  eyes  on  me,  and  returned  to  my  seat 
silently,  and  gathered  up  my  few  grains  of  maize  with 
out  looking  at  any  of  them.  They  were  as  solemnly 
silent  as  myself,  yet  I  could  feel  that  they  were  not 
disapproving.  I  had  learned  from  Tristan  that  the  re 
ligion  of  every  man  is  sacred  to  these  people  so  long 
as  there  is  no  attempt  to  impose  it  upon  them ;  for  their 
gods  are  jealous  and  peculiar. 

It  was  plain  that  the  planting  of  prayer  sticks  with 
fragments  of  my  garment  did  impress  the  minds  of  all 
of  them,  and  I  blessed  the  days  with  Tristan  and  the 
learning  of  the  things  I  never  thought  to  need. 

My  captors  were  plainly  not  happy  that  they  had  to 
carry  to  an  older  chief  the  burden  of  the  act  of  Kasia  — 
yet  they  had  decided  it  thus  with  the  dead  man,  and  it 
may  be  that  some  superstition  of  their  dark  minds 
compelled  them  to  abide  by  it. 


RIDING  THE   TRAIL   ALONE      221 

I  was  let  sleep  in  comfort,  but  two  were  ever  stand 
ing  sentinel,  and  before  dawn  when  I  lifted  my  head 
to  observe  location  of  the  horses,  one  of  the  men  step 
ped  forward  to  show  me  it  was  of  no  use  to  plan  escape. 

Breakfastless  we  took  the  trail  when  gray  came  into 
the  east,  and  we  made  our  way  over  the  strange  land 
with  an  energy  in  proof  that  neither  food  nor  water 
was  for  us  until  we  reached  the  end.  A  line  of  palo 
fierro  trees  showed  where  a  river  ran  in  the  season  of 
rain,  and  to  the  east  rose  a  gray  hill  one  would  not  for 
get  after  once  having  seen  it  —  not  that  it  had  a  height 
so  great  —  but  it  was  of  a  character  peculiar. 

A  village  of  wattled  huts  was  there,  with  ramadas, 
and  woven  baskets  as  granaries.  The  children  ran  after 
us  staring  at  my  face  and  my  bonds,  but  no  insult  was 
offered,  as  I  learned  later  was  done  with  Indian  cap 
tives  in  war.  My  captors  were  yet  in  doubt  as  to  my 
standing. 

Matiwa,  the  ancient  of  the  village  to  which  I  was 
taken,  ordered  them  to  unfasten  my  hands  and  give 
me  food.  A  woman,  who  looked  strangely  familiar,  ran 
past  me  with  words  and  gestures  to  Matiwa.  She  was 
let  enter  his  dwelling  with  my  captors  while  I  was  led 
elsewhere,  and  no  word  came  to  me  of  the  council  that 
day. 

There  was  much  inspection  of  the  horses,  and  my 
heart  sank  next  morning  when  the  youth  of  the  few 
Castilian  words  mounted  mine,  and  led  away  the  other. 

"  Come  —  womans,"  he  said  with  a  grin,  "  come 
womans,  all  good ; "  and  then,  with  a  great  dash  to  dis 
play  his  riding,  he  plunged  south  again  into  the  desert 
of  hills. 


222      THE    HOUSE    OF   THE    DAWN 

Weary  though  I  was,  it  was  a  day  of  restlessness  for 
me;  every  bone  ached  from  being  bound  in  the  saddle, 
yet  the  spirit  in  me  was  quickened  by  endless  conjec 
tures  concerning  Sancha  and  the  pious  cavalcade  of 
Mother  Clemente,  and  Tristan.  Of  Tristan  I  could  only 
wonder  how  far  he  would  go  south  to  see  them  safe 
ere  he  turned  to  seek  us,  and  if  chance  should  lead  him 
wrongly  on  the  trail  of  the  Haquis? 

I  tried  to  read  in  the  faces  of  the  villagers  their  dis 
position  toward  me,  and  with  little  success.  They  were 
not  evil  in  look  as  had  been  Kasia,  but  my  presence  was 
a  trouble,  and  the  old  chief  Matiwa  gave  me  no  smiles. 
He  did,  however,  let  me  range  free  with  a  guard  ever 
beside  me,  and  my  garments  were  not  divided  as  had 
been  Sancha's. 

The  strange  hill  noticed  when  afar  had  allurement 
when  in  its  shadow,  for  stupendous  though  it  was,  it 
looked  as  the  work  of  human  hands  in  the  long  terraces 
of  stone,  line  above  line,  rising  to  the  top  where  vultures 
nested;  and  up  there  was  the  outline  of  strange  walls 
or  upright  columns,  and  between  them  the  sky  was  seen 
in  slits  of  light. 

I  paced  back  and  forth,  gazing  up  at  them  as  they 
seemed  to  march  in  line  as  I  moved.  It  was  all  most 
curious,  for  across  some  of  the  upright  pillars  could  be 
seen  a  coping  or  canopy. 

I  tried  by  word  or  gesture  to  ask  my  guide,  but  he 
only  kissed  a  feather  and  blew  it  upwards,  and  smiled, 
and  then  an  Indian  woman  grinding  mesquite  beans  in 
a  stone  bowl  spoke  haltingly. 

"  Senor,  it  is  House  of  Light  —  very  ancient  —  same 
old  as  the  stars  —  ancient  House  of  Light." 


RIDING   THE   TRAIL   ALONE      223 

She  was  the  dark  little  woman  who  looked  familiar. 
Her  hair  was  cut  curiously  unlike  the  others,  and  was 
not  comely,  but  to  my  mind  she  was  a  very  gift  of  God 
after  the  sound  of  strange  languages;  yet  her  familiar 
look  was  a  puzzle. 

"Where?  maid  of  my  language,"  I  said,  and  sat 
beside  her  in  eagerness ;  but  she  moved  her  bowl  a  little 
distance,  and  I  learned  a  lesson. 

"  The  House  of  Light,  that  means  House  of  the 
Dawn?  Is  it  not  so,  sister?" 

"  That  is  true,  the  ancient  House  of  Dawns.  It  is  true 
also,  if  you  are  friend  to  Ivava,  I  am  as  sister." 

Then  I  knew!  It  was  the  weeping  woman  by  the 
grave  in  the  willows  of  the  south. 

"But  what  is  Ivava?"  I  asked,  and  at  that  she 
smiled. 

"  Ivava  is  brother :  '  friend  '  you  were  named  by  Ivava. 
So  I  am  telling  this  ruler  Matiwa.  That  makes  you  held 
in  this  place,  and  in  safety." 

"And  you?" 

"  Movi  —  me,  I  grind  grain  on  the  trail  to  my  own 
people." 

Joy  and  sorrow  have  I  known  since  that  day  below 
the  strange  worship  place  of  the  ancient  years,  but  out 
from  them  stand  the  moments  there  when  I  felt  the 
friendship  of  Tristan  cast  as  a  mantle  of  protection 
around  me  even  in  this  far  village  of  red  heathens. 

Yet  my  heart  was  sick  that  it  had  not  been  in  the 
Indian  camp  of  the  canon  Movi  ground  her  grains.  Her 
good  word  might  have  served,  and  Sancha's  garments 
and  Sancha's  letters  remained  her  own. 

I  thought  much  of  the  letters,  for  since  they  were 


224     THE    HOUSE    OF    THE    DAWN 

hidden  away  it  seemed  wisely  done  —  as  if  her  patron 
saint  had  shown  the  way  to  take  from  her  the  emblem 
of  a  false  idol. 

I  asked  the  woman  Movi  where  the  horses  had  been 
taken  —  and  what  was  meant  by  the  "  womans  com 
ing  "  of  the  rider. 

"  That  I  no  can  help,"  she  said  gently.  "  The  wife  of 
Hotaku,  son  of  Matiwa,  was  taken  in  strength  by 
Castilian  men.  She  come  home,  she  told,  and  she  has 
gone  to  Those  Above!  Now  to  pay  must  the  white 
woman  come  to  Matiwa  for  his  son,  Hotaku.  Thus  it 
is  to  be." 

I  set  myself  to  explain.  I  made  pleadings  to  her  that 
she  take  me  to  the  chief  and  speak  for  me.  All  that  was 
possible  I  said,  and  all  was  of  no  use. 

"  You  I  could  speak  for  —  Ivava  is  as  son  in  the 
heart  of  Matiwa,  so  you  are  fed  and  you  are  held  sacred. 
The  woman  I  do  not  know,  but  Castilian  people  owe  a 
wife  to  the  clan  of  Motiwa.  They  think  their  gods  have 
sent  this  woman  for  the  wife  —  it  has  been  spoken." 

I  walked  the  plain  below  the  great  hill  of  the  temple 
and  thought  until  my  heart  was  sick  with  thoughts. 
I  looked  in  the  wattled  dwellings  with  horror  at  the 
picture  that  might  be.  I  knew  in  my  soul  she  would 
find  a  way  to  send  her  spirit  to  God  ere  the  son  of  the 
red  chief  claim  her  —  and  this  rude  village  of  the  cactus 
land  would  thus  see  the  end  of  the  love  trail. 

In  misery  I  fled  from  even  my  one  friend  and  made 
my  way  apart  from  the  voices  —  the  chatter  of  women 
and  children,  and  all  the  sight  of  horrors  to  which  they 
doomed  her  —  our  Sancha!  My  guard  followed  where 
I  walked,  bow  and  lance  as  his  armament.  When  I 


RIDING    THE    TRAIL    ALONE      225 

reached  the  great  stone  terraces  of  the  lone  mountain, 
he  halted  me,  but  in  wildness  to  get  above  the  human 
things,  I  pointed  upward,  and  after  a  moment  of  steady 
regard,  he  nodded  his  head  gravely.  There  was  no 
doubt  that  he  remembered  that  I  did  respect  to  their 
shrine  near  the  pool,  and  without  doubt  he  thought  I 
again  craved  place  for  special  prayer. 

As  we  climbed  from  terrace  to  terrace,  and  out  on 
the  bastions  of  stone  where  the  vultures  rested,  I  could 
have  thought  it  a  fortification  but  for  singular  weak 
nesses.  Once  upon  the  strange  work,  each  terrace  the 
height  of  a  tall  man,  there  was  a  temptation  to  go  on 
and  on,  for  at  last  I  was  facing  one  of  the  great  primi 
tive  records  of  the  ancient  people.  The  mere  climbing  of 
this  one  made  me  understand  why  Tristan  had  ranged 
far  in  the  seeking  of  these  things  of  old  which  were 
mighty. 

And  on  the  summit  was  truly  the  remains  of  a  temple 
very  ancient  —  small  wonder  that  the  people  of  the 
wattled  huts,  and  the  brush  shelters,  deemed  that 
House  of  the  Dawn  of  an  age  with  the  stars.  All  the 
stone  had  been  square  and  huge,  and  the  lines  of  pillars 
held,  I  knew,  some  strange  record  or  calculation.  Was 
it  the  dawn  of  the  various  ages  of  the  peoples  by  whom 
the  land  had  been  possessed,  or  the  dawn  of  the  living 
sun  itself?  I  was  only  a  boy,  but  to  my  mind  great 
wings  of  mysteries  of  some  Past  seemed  to  hover  over 
the  place  like  a  brooding  bird.  It  was  a  very  strange 
feeling  which  came  to  me  —  as  if  I  must  stretch  my 
hands  high  in  salute  to  Those  Above! 

It  frightened  me  as  a  witchcraft  would,  and  I  made 
the  sign,  and  whispered  a  prayer.  The  Indio  was  watch- 


226     THE    HOUSE    OF    THE    DAWN 

ing  me,  and  at  the  sign  of  the  cross  he  smiled,  and  led 
me  to  the  center  of  the  lines  of  stone,  and  there  he 
pointed  to  a  strange  thing  for  a  pagan  place  —  it  was 
the  four  arms  of  a  cross  in  stones,  one  fitted  close  in 
square  blocks,  and  now  worn  by  the  storms  of  centuries 
to  rounded  edges.  East  and  west,  north  and  south  the 
arms  reached,  and  where  they  joined  there  was  a  bowl- 
like  depression  blackened  by  burnings  of  gums  or 
incense. 

I  would  have  given  much  to  question  the  man,  but 
could  only  point  to  the  east  and  appear  to  understand. 
He  pointed  to  the  north,  and  the  sky,  and  smiled  as 
if  he  would  ask  if  I  understood  that  also  —  which  of 
course  I  did  not,  except  for  the  pagan  records  made 
by  Tristan  of  the  great  significance  to  Indians  of  the 
stars  of  the  north. 

It  was  easy  to  understand  how  vast  this  work,  and 
the  thought  it  held,  must  seem  to  the  smaller  village 
people  of  smaller  lives.  To  me  it  was  a  cathedral  of 
the  sky,  and  about  our  feet  lay  the  broken  slabs  with 
which  it  had  been  walled.  Only  a  few  of  the  upright 
pillars  had  the  coping  left  to  show  where  and  how  they 
had  been  placed ;  these  were  the  fragments  giving  so 
strange  a  line  along  the  sky  as  seen  from  below. 

I  gazed  down  from  the  height,  and  to  my  mind  came 
remembrance  that  a  House  of  the  Dawn  was  also  a 
house  of  refuge,  and  wild  hopes  came  that  by  some 
plan,  as  yet  formless,  sanctuary  might  be  found  there 
for  Sancha,  and  if  Movi  could  somewhere  reach 
Tristan  — ! 

I  went  down  from  that  place  with  a  light  of  comfort 
in  my  heart;  at  least  a  hope  had  come  and  wild  plans 


RIDING   THE   TRAIL   ALONE      227 

were  made  by  me  in  the  days  to  follow,  each  move  of 
the  people  being  noted  by  me.  To  the  old  chief,  Matiwa, 
I  made  attempt  to  be  little  less  than  a  lackey,  so  eager 
was  I  to  show  affection  and  be  claimed,  like  Tristan,  as 
friend  or  son.  My  righteous  endeavors,  however,  did 
not  meet  with  the  success  I  could  have  wished.  He 
did  smile  upon  me  at  times,  but  there  was  a  grimness 
to  it,  and  without  Movi  the  village  below  the  great 
altar  would  have  been  a  friendless  place. 

Not  that  she  showed  her  friendliness  in  words  after 
that  first  day ;  there  seemed  a  decorum  to  be  observed 
by  a  stranger  woman  who  ground  meal  to  earn  her  way 
on  the  trail,  and  the  records  left  by  some  ranging  Cas- 
tilians  did  not  place  our  superior  race  above  reproach. 

But  by  reverence  to  their  holy  things  —  when  I  could 
divine  them  —  I  was  at  least  deemed  harmless  to  range 
abroad  as  might  a  straying  puppy,  yet  ever  followed 
after  by  my  amiable  guide.  Thus,  each  day  I  was 
allowed  to  ascend  to  the  place  of  ancient  prayer  and 
gaze  southward,  the  way  Movi  said  she  would  come. 
I  never  met  any  of  the  heathen  on  the  summit,  though 
I  did  note  the  coming  down  of  youths  at  sunrise,  and 
occasionally  even  the  boy  children  in  the  care  of 
Matiwa,  thus  I  knew  they  kept  alive  some  cult  on  the 
height  even  though  they  did  nothing  to  protect  the 
crumbling  ruins. 

"Why  not?"  I  asked  Movi.  "Is  it  not  the  hon 
ored  work  of  their  fathers?  " 

"Who  knows?"  returned  the  little  brown  woman. 
"  When  a  well  is  dug  four  times  the  measure  of  a  man 
in  this  place,  those  who  dig  bring  up  cups  and  broken 
bowls  of  most  ancient  days.  The  land  is  an  old  land, 


228     THE    HOUSE    OF    THE    DAWN 

but  these  village  people  have  record  of  their  coming 
from  the  great  water  of  the  sunset,  and  who  knows 
the  record  of  the  buried  ancient  people  —  or  the  high 
altar  builders?  " 

After  the  first  visit,  I  but  climbed  the  terraced  height 
to  gaze  southward  where  Sancha  was  already  riding 
toward  me.  I  thought  of  her  journeying  unaware  past 
the  shrine  where  the  letters  were  hidden,  and  I  cursed 
the  fatal  trail  on  which  those  mad  letters  had  led  her. 
It  was  one  mistake  in  which  Tristan  had  been  a  boy 
at  heart,  and  a  foolish  one. 

The  fourth  day  the  joy  was  mine,  for  away  in  the 
distance  two  moving  dots  were  discerned  coming 
slowly  through  the  tall  columns  of  the  giant  cactus. 
The  pagan  shrine  was  truly  as  a  place  of  light  after 
darkness  at  that  sight,  and  the  tears  were  in  my  eye 
as  I  leaped  down  terrace  after  terrace,  to  greet  her  as 
she  came. 

But  my  guard  was  alert  as  I.  His  warning  call  sum 
moned  his  fellows  who  circled  me  as  in  a  trap !  My 
freedom  was  gone,  and  I  was  hedged  in  a  hut  with 
bonds  about  me,  and  could  only  peer  out  as  she  passed 
to  the  house  of  Matiwa  —  a  weary  drooping  figure  in 
grass  cloth  mattings,  and  bare  arms  burnt  in  the  sun. 

Again  Movi  was  called  upon,  and  the  older  people 
of  the  clan  of  Matiwa  were  sent  for.  It  was  plainly 
a  thing  for  council,  and  Sancha  was  given  place  in  the 
ramada  of  his  house  where  all  might  look  upon  her  — 
poor  proud  little  marquesa  whose  wealth  had  dwindled 
to  her  smock  and  torn  shoes!  It  was  evident  that 
other  wearers  had  used  the  shoes,  slitting  them  for 
comfort,  and  as  failures  they  had  been  given  back  to  her. 


RIDING  THE   TRAILALONE      229 

She  looked  at  none  of  them,  her  gaze  was  over  their 
heads  —  wide  eyed,  listening !  I  felt  she  was  hoping 
and  was  not  daunted;  for  weary  though  she  was,  her 
head  tilted  in  arrogance.  I  could  smile  at  that,  even 
while  my  tears  fell,  for  her  Saint  of  the  Impossible  had 
surely  held  her  unbroken  of  spirit. 

I  could  hear  the  words  of  Movi,  who  asked  her  the 
questions  ordered,  and  told  her  she  was  chosen  by  the 
chief,  and  would  be  married  into  their  clans.  Sancha 
stared  at  her  and  shook  her  head. 

"  Tell  your  chief  I  am  already  chosen  —  and  already 
promised  to  a  man  who  would  sweep  to  death  every 
village  of  your  people  if  hands  touch  me." 

Movi  spoke  a  word  of  warning. 

"  If  I  tell  them  you  belong  to  a  man,  that  will  please 
them  best,  for  it  was  a  young  wife  taken  from  the 
son  of  the  chief  by  the  Castilian  men." 

"  Tell  them  my  man  will  come  like  a  wide  fire  and 
leave  only  ashes  here." 

Movi  repeated  this  threat,  and  Matiwa  smiled  grimly 
as  he  looked  on  her. 

"  But  once  can  we  all  die,"  he  said.  "  The  white 
strangers  take  our  maids  and  our  wives  until  now  we 
tell  them  we  will  only  trade.  So  it  is.  This  time  we 
trade.  When  Hotaku,  my  son,  comes  from  battle  to 
claim  his  new  woman,  I  send  the  white  boy  to  Mexico. 
He  can  take  the  word  to  Christian  men.  It  will  teach 
them  the  thing  they  some  day  must  learn.  Always  they 
have  taken,  now  we  take !  " 

Word  for  word  Movi  spoke  the  words  to  Sancha, 
and  her  face  became  white.  She  was  to  be  used  by  the 
pagans  to  teach  the  wandering  Castilians  a  lesson  their 


230     THE    HOUSE    OF    THE    DAWN 

own  religion  should  teach  them.  But  in  all  her  horror, 
she  caught  at  the  one  threat. 

"  The  white  boy?  And  where  is  there  a  white  boy?  " 
she  asked  as  if  in  unbelief,  but  I  knew  her  heart  was 
trembling. 

"  I  am  here,  Sancha !  here  in  bonds,"  I  called  to  her. 
"  Be  brave,  for  love  of  God  until  he  comes  —  Tristan!  " 

She  called  to  me  gladly  though  I  was  out  of  her  sight, 
and  at  sound  of  the  name  "  Tristan,"  Movi  spoke  lowly 
to  the  chief,  and  they  had  quiet  talk.  Then  question 
was  again  put  to  Sancha. 

"Know  you  him  —  the  Castilian  —  Tristan?" 

"  Say  yes !  Say  yes,  Sancha,"  I  begged,  but  she  looked 
at  them  coldly. 

"  Who  is  he  —  Tristan?  "  she  asked,  "  and  how  should 
I  know  him?  If  it  is  the  man  who  has  taken  their 
woman,  why  should  I  lie  for  him?" 

"  Sancha !  it  is  a  man  they  hold  in  honor,  a  man  whom, 
for  some  reason,  they  honor  more  in  these  wilds  than 
the  viceroy.  Sancha,  it  is  only  a  name  —  have  wisdom 
and  say  yes  for  safety." 

But  Movi  answered  me. 

"  Not  thus  must  Ivava  be  used,"  she  said.  "  The 
maid  does  not  know  him,  and  does  not  lie,  and  that  is 
best." 

"  Ask  the  chief  to  set  me  free  to  speak,"  I  pleaded, 
and  after  some  words  with  my  guard  and  companion,  it 
was  done.  Sancha  rose  to  her  feet  and  held  out  her 
hands,  but  men  stepped  between  when  I  would  have 
clasped  her. 

"  You  do  not  understand,"  I  said  to  Movi,  "  she  is  of 
my  house.  If  freedom  is  given  me  because  of  Ivava,  I 


RIDING   THE   TRAIL  ALONE      231 

claim  freedom  also  for  her  because  she  is  of  my  own 
blood." 

Matiwa  smiled  when  I  spoke,  and  turned  to  Movi. 

"  Ask  the  white  woman  if  this  is  the  man  to  whom 
she  belongs,  he  who  would  sweep  us  into  the  sleep  of 
death." 

Poor  Sancha  tried  to  be  loyal,  but  knew  I  was  all  too 
much  of  a  boy  to  threaten  tribes  with. 

"  I  do  belong  to  him  as  to  a  brother,"  she  confessed, 
"  but  he  is  not  the  man  I  meant." 

I  could  have  groaned  at  that,  for  what  difference 
would  a  brother  mean  to  those  stolid  red  devils  bent  on 
their  own  revenges? 

"  Then,"  said  Matiwa,  "  must  she  rest  content  and 
wait  Hotaku,  my  son,  and  if  the  other  man  comes 
for  his  woman,  he  had  best  come  before  that  time." 

A  sentinel  from  the  terraces  sent  a  call,  and  at  once 
there  was  excitement  and  scurrying  of  feet.  The  name 
of  Hotaku  was  spoken.  I  looked  at  Sancha,  but  Indian 
names  meant  nothing  to  her.  I  looked  at  the  Indians 
who  had  knives,  and  measured  distances,  and  thought 
of  how  I  could  get  a  blade  and  use  it  for  my  hands 
were  no  longer  bound  and  all  minds  were  on  the  coming 
of  the  son  of  Matiwa. 

Then  I  heard  another  name,  and  Movi  looked  at  me 
and  nodded  her  head  and  smiled.  I  was  dazed  with 
the  suddenness  of  all  things  after  the  still  days  of  wait 
ing.  The  sense  of  what  she  meant  did  not  come  to  me 
until  I  saw  a  horse  and  a  wounded  Indian  sagging  in 
a  saddle.  The  horse  was  that  of  Tristan,  and  my  heart 
sank,  while  my  eyes  weni  again  to  a  knife  in  an  Indian 
girdle. 


232     THE    HOUSE    OF    THE    DAWN 

Not  until  the  horse  was  halted  did  I  see  that  Tristan, 
who  looked  like  the  dead,  walked  beside  and  held  the 
Indio  in  the  saddle. 

Sancha  gave  one  look  —  one  choking  cry,  and  dropped 
her  head  on  her  breast  —  her  hair  covering  her  face, 
and  her  tattered  and  slashed  shoes  were  drawn  under 
the  manta  of  grass  matting. 

"  Water  —  for  God's  love !  "  muttered  Tristan,  but 
Movi  already  had  it  in  a  gourd.  He  drank  it  with  closed 
eyes,  and  dropped  where  he  stood.  The  others  carried 
Hotaku  into  the  house  of  Matiwa,  and  Movi  helped  me 
bathe  the  face  of  Tristan,  and  the  hands,  and  she 
brought  broth  of  a  rabbit,  and  a  little  at  a  time  he 
swallowed  it,  and  finally  looked  at  us  with  bloodshot, 
yet  seeing,  eyes. 

"  Juanito,"  he  said  at  last.  "  I  have  come.  Where 
is  she?  " 

No  one  answered,  and  she  who  covered  herself  with 
her  hair  seemed  to  sink  more  low  on  the  trodden  earth 
under  the  ramada. 

"  Alive,  and  —  unharmed,"  was  all  I  dared  say. 
"  Rest  you  now  till  we  learn  how  this  has  come  about 
—  you  are  starving !  " 

"  For  water  —  water,"  he  assented.  "  Searching,  I 
found  my  friend  wounded,  we  made  the  start  home  for 
help  in  the  search,  and,  you  see!  He  was  mad  with 
fever  and  striving  for  a  hidden  spring  he  knew.  I 
fought  him,  took  his  arms,  and  made  him  ride.  He  is 
dying,  I  think,  but  he  sees  his  father,  and  he  is  my 
friend." 

Matiwa  came  out,  and  took  his  hand,  his  face  was 
sad,  and  Movi  spoke  for  him. 


RIDING   THE   TRAIL   ALONE      233 

"  Ivava,"  he  said,  "  come,  speak  to  Hotaku  as  you 
know.  He  calls  for  his  wife.  Tell  him  there  is  a  new 
wife,  white  and  young.  Make  him  hear.  You  have 
kept  life  in  him,  now  give  him  strength." 

Tristan  stared  at  him,  and  arose,  staggering,  striv 
ing  against  weakness. 

"  A  new  wife,  white  and  young !  "  he  repeated. 

Matiwa  pointed  to  me,  and  Movi  again  spoke. 

"  This  boy  would  claim  her,  but  the  maid  is  for  my 
son,  tell  him  —  you  —  he  listens  for  your  voice." 

"  The  maid  —  the  white  maid  —  is  for  your  son, 
Matiwa?"  said  Tristan  very  quietly  —  "and  what 
am  I?" 

"  You  are  Ivava  —  you  are  also  son,  and  you  are 
brother,"  said  the  old  man,  "  and  you  bring  back  to  his 
mother  our  youngest  born." 

"And  what  may  I  ask  of  your  clan?" 

"  All  things  we  may  grant  to  a  friend." 

"  Then  take  me  to  the  maid  whom  my  younger  brother 
has  asked  of  you.  Of  her  have  I  come  in  search.  Of 
your  clan  I  ask  only  the  maid." 

"  She  is  yours?  "  And  the  eyes  of  Matiwa  were  narrow 
and  keen. 

"  She  is  mine,"  said  Tristan  and  looked  at  him 
squarely.  "  Your  son,  who  is  going  to  God,  was  to 
help  in  search  for  her  —  she  is  mine." 

"  Yet  she  calls  not  out  to  you  in  gladness,"  said  the  old 
man  with  grimness,  "  and  your  own  eyes  do  not  know 
her  though  she  sits  at  your  feet." 

Tristan  stared  at  him  and  at  me,  but  I  dared  not 
speak  though  I  saw  the  wary  eyes  of  Matiwa  who 
thought  it  all  white  trickery.  Then  Tristan  looked  on 


234     THE    HOUSE    OF    THE    DAWN 

the  crouched  figure  hidden  under  black  hair  and  the 
manta  of  grass  cloth,  and  his  cry  was  as  if  his  heart 
had  been  struck. 

He  moved  toward  her  with  outreaching  hands,  then 
halted  —  aware  of  Matiwa's  suspicion,  and  turned  to 
his  horse.  There,  tied  to  the  saddle,  was  rolled  a  blanket, 
and  the  extra  robe  given  him  by  Salvadore  Serri  that 
first  day. 

Quickly  he  unfastened  it,  and  I  could  see  the  great 
beads  of  water  on  his  brow.  He  was  weak  from  starva 
tion,  and  desperate,  and  the  sight  of  her  thus  turned 
him  chalk  white. 

He  shook  the  robe  loose  from  the  rawhide  straps. 

"  Arise,  Dona  de  Llorente  y  Rivera,"  he  said,  and 
his  voice  was  shaking,  though  his  words  were  cold,  and 
she  arose  and  stood,  her  eyes  on  the  ground,  and  he 
cast  about  her  the  robe,  and  took  the  brown  rosary,  with 
its  scattered  turquoise  and  shell  beads,  and  put  it 
around  her  neck. 

"  She  is  mine  to  claim  before  the  clans,  Matiwa," 
he  said.  "  By  the  beads  of  your  friend  Fernan,  you 
see  that  she  is  sacred." 

"  I  see  it,  and  my  heart  is  troubled  that  she  was 
shamed  by  our  people,  but  it  is  a  time  of  war.  No 
man  shall  claim  her  but  you,  and  my  son  will  be  glad." 

"  He  will  be  glad,"  assented  Tristan,  and  then  to 
Movi  he  said,  "  little  sister,  take  my  lady  where  she 
will  have  rest  and  comfort.  My  eyes  are  glad  to  look 
upon  you  here." 

And  Movi  touched  the  hand  of  Sancha  who  turned 
and  followed  her.  Not  once  had  she  lifted  her  head 
or  looked  at  him. 


RIDING  THE   TRAIL   ALONE      235 

"  Watch  over  her,  Juanito,"  he  said  haltingly,  "  let  her 
not  feel  shame." 

And  then  he  sank  as  if  to  pray,  but  from  his  knees 
fell  prone  upon  the  ground.  His  last  strength  had  been 
given,  but  he  had  come  in  time. 


CHAPTER  XV 
THE  FINDING  OF  ANITA 

SANCHA   wept    when    alone,    and   was    curiously 
silent,  asking  few  questions.    Of  that  I  was  glad 
enough,  for  in  his  delirium  of  the  night  I  heard 
strange  things  —  memories  of  old  days  in  Spain, 
secret  things  of  forbidden  books,  and  names  I  dared 
not  whisper  even  though  all  those  desert  leagues  from 
the  Holy  Brotherhood  —  a  word  here  and  there  of  his 
escape  in  the  night  time  —  Fray  Bernardino,  and  an 
open  gate  —  a  saddled  horse  —  his  own  saddle! 

All  this,  and  then  the  search  for  trail  of  the  Haquis 
—  and  white  Virgo!  The  mumblings  of  thirst,  and 
the  records  of  stars  jumbled  together.  I  listened  to  it 
through  the  night  hours  while  herb  brews  were  made 
and  poured  down  him;  also  dried  blossoms  were  burnt 
as  incense,  of  which  I  half  strangled.  Yet  the  pagan 
cures  did  have  power,  for  the  fever  abated,  and  in 
early  morning  he  slept. 

But  the  son  of  Matiwa  went  to  his  gods  in  the  night, 
and  I  strove  to  find  excuse  to  lead  Sancha  apart  from 
the  village  ere  the  ceremonies  of  death  add  horror  to 
her  mind. 

I  found  her  fresh  bathed,  her  hair  smoothed  by  a 
broom  of  grasses,  and  clothed  from  throat  to  feet  in 

236 


THE    FINDING    OF    ANITA         237 

the  consecrated  robe;  but  while  there  was  sanctity  in 
her  garb,  there  was  little  hint  of  it  in  her  expression. 

"  Tell  this  woman  she  lies,"  she  said,  pointing  to 
poor  Movi,  who  was  much  impressed  by  all  the  hap 
penings. 

"  Come  away,  Sancha,  that  we  may  talk  alone,"  I 
begged ;  "  there  are  great  reasons.  You  have  lately 
escaped  one  danger,  are  you  eager  for  more?  " 

She  did  not  answer,  but  followed  me  out  across  the 
level  until  we  were  in  the  shadow  of  the  hill.  I  noted 
that  Movi  looked  after  us  strangely.  She  thought  I 
was  stealing  the  property  of  Tristan  while  he  slept ! 

"  Now  tell  me  where  no  one  hears,"  I  suggested,  but 
her  mood  had  changed. 

"  She  is  but  a  foolish  savage,"  she  confessed,  "  and  I 
should  not  heed  her  words,  but  she  thought  the  giving 
of  this  cloak  was  a  marriage  gift!  Does  your  friend 
sleep?" 

"  Sancha  —  Sancha !  "  I  said,  and  looked  at  her.  She 
stared  back  at  me  with  haughtiness  for  an  instant,  and 
then  her  tears  fell,  and  she  turned  away,  fairly  running 
until  she  reached  the  terraced  hill. 

"  Go  you  back  and  leave  me,"  she  said  weeping. 
"  You  mean  that  he  is  my  friend  most,  and  that  I  —  O 
Juanito,  how  is  the  debt  to  be  paid?  What  can  one 
do  for  a  man  like  that?" 

"  Is  it  that  you  fear  to  own  the  greatness  of  the  debt?  " 
I  asked,  but  she  shook  her  head. 

"  I  do  not  know  what  I  fear  —  it  is  like  a  witchcraft, 
for  Juanito,  I  tell  you  truly,  I  knew  he  was  coming !  " 

"  You  knew  —  ! "    I  felt  myself  go  cold  at  that. 

"  Night  and  day  /  £nen>.    I  seemed  to  hear  the  sound 


THE    HOUSE    OF    THE    DAWN 


of  his  horse  even  in  my  dreams.  I  thought  of  you,  also 
I  wished  with  all  my  heart  and  prayers  for  Marco ; 
yet  it  was  neither  of  you,  but  always  the  steps  of  that 
man  I  heard.  And  when  he  staggered  in  from  the 
trail,  I  was  not  even  surprised.  It  was  as  if  I  had 
been  waiting  a  thousand  years  until  he  found  me  there 

—  half  naked  and  ashamed." 

I  said  nothing,  but  sat  down,  my  head  in  my  hands, 
while  she  paced  back  and  forth  restless,  in  the  fresh 
dawn  of  her  new  day  of  freedom. 

"  It  is  very  strange,"  she  said,  "  and  this  extra  robe 

—  it  is  as  if  he  too  had  been  waiting  this  time." 

Some  men  came  down  the  terraces  and  passed  us.  I 
could  see  their  minds  were  of  their  prayer,  and  made 
no  salute,  she  turned  to  look. 

"  What  do  they?  "  she  asked,  and  I  pointed  upwards. 

"  They  go  for  prayer  in  the  ancient  place  of  refuge," 
I  said.  "  It  is  their  high  House  of  the  Dawn." 

She  gave  a  low  cry  and  stared  at  me. 

"Are  all  things  coming  at  once?"  she  asked;  "the 
things  of  witchcraft,  and  the  shrines  of  which  his  letters 
spoke?  O  Juanito,  my  heart  was  in  the  letters  —  and 
his  —  and  they  are  gone  and  have  changed  all  things 

—  the  letters  —  the  letters !  " 

I  strove  to  comfort  her  with  the  thought  of  her  safety 
and  her  freedom,  but  she  shook  her  head. 

"  All  is  changed,  Juanito.  This  girl  in  the  monk's 
robe  is  not  the  Sancha  who  rode  with  you  under  the 
palms  out  of  Mexico.  The  letters  were  as  the  touch 
of  his  hand  —  they  led  me  on!  They  are  gone,  and  it 
is  as  if  the  end  of  a  trail  had  been  reached.  It  is  most 
strange ! " 


THE    FINDING    OF    ANITA         239 


Then,  after  a  little  she  said,  pointing  upward,  "  I 
want  to  go  there,  I  want  to  find  such  House  of  the 
Dawn  as  the  letters  told  me  of." 

But  I  urged  that  she  wait  another  time.  I  strove  to 
keep  near  enough  to  Tristan  for  service  if  need  be. 

"  What  is  it  that  woman  calls  him  —  Senor  Alca- 
traz?  "  she  asked,  and  I  told  her  Ivava  meant  "  brother  " 
in  Movi's  language,  and  it  was  all  they  called  him. 

"  And  Tristan  —  who  is  that?  " 

"  I  have  heard  that  a  man  of  that  name  journeyed 
these  parts  with  a  priest  for  whom  they  had  much  love. 
It  may  be  they  confuse  the  names,"  I  answered.  And 
already  her  thoughts  were  afar,  and  she  was  easily  sat 
isfied,  which  was  well  for  me. 

"  Is  there  anything  I  might  do  for  him  —  your 
Ivava?  "  she  asked,  and  I  thought  that  when  he  wakened 
he  might  need  to  be  assured  by  her  own  words  of  her 
safety. 

So,  after  the  dead  body  of  the  Indio  had  been  car 
ried  out,  I  led  her  to  the  rude  shelter,  and  Tristan 
opened  his  eyes  to  find  her  there,  trembling  and  staring 
at  his  thin  cheeks. 

"  I  owe  you  much  —  Senor  —  I  scarce  know  how  to 
speak  of  it,"  she  said ;  "  words  are  not  much  —  but  if 
I  may  serve  you  —  " 

He  smiled  at  that  wanly  enough. 

"  There  is  no  need  of  words,  Excellencia,  I  regret  I 
have  no  fitting  seat  to  offer  —  or  —  " 

"  Cease,  I  beg  you !  My  own  pride  has  brought 
shame  to  me  —  and  has  brought  you  to  this !  " 

"  It  is  a  weakness,  no  more,"  he  answered  her ;  "  we 
lost  the  way  of  the  water  —  and  the  days  without  food 


24o      THE    HOUSE    OF    THE    DAWN 

—  yet  the  lack  of  water  was  worst.  But  you  are  safe 
and  perhaps  you  will  not  again  disdain  the  beads  I 
begged  you  wear?  " 

"  Never,"  she  said,  "  never." 

The  next  day  he  was  up  from  the  couch,  and  eating 
the  food  or  broths  Movi  was  ever  intent  upon.  Sancha 
was  courteous,  but  ill  at  ease  in  his  presence ;  a  strange 
and  new  thing  for  her.  She  would  wander  away  rest 
lessly  towards  the  terraces,  or  gather  strange  desert 
blooms  to  learn  their  names  and  uses. 

Thus  he  noted  the  wretched  slashed  footgear  under 
her  robe,  and  sent  Movi  for  rawhide,  at  which  Movi 
laughed  aloud  even  while  she  complied,  and  her  smiles 
were  ever  apparent  as  she  watched  him  cut  the  leather 
with  his  knife  and  fashion  small  boots  of  deer  skin  with 
rawhide  soles,  and  all  sewn  with  the  glistening  sinew 
of  the  deer. 

To  me  Movi  laughed. 

"  It  is  true,"  she  said.  "  His  lady  makes  me  silent 
when  I  say  he  is  her  man  —  but  you  see !  Each  man 
of  our  people  makes  the  boot  for  his  own  woman;  no 
other  man  must  do  —  and  you  see." 

He  gave  them  to  me  when  finished  that  I  might  get 
them  to  her,  and  then  he  proceeded  to  mend  his  worn 
raiment,  and  take  note  that  the  horses  were  getting 
rest  and  food  for  the  trail. 

No  word  had  been  said  of  it,  for  I  waited  his  strength 
ere  bringing  forward  new  questions,  but  a  trader  from 
the  north  —  a  Pima  man  —  came  in  with  turquoise  and 
blankets,  and  told  of  trouble  with  the  Apaches,  and 
of  the  Castilian  colonists  who  had  gone  to  Santa  Fe, 
and  of  a  white  woman  they  had  left  for  dead  with  the 


THE    FINDING    OF    ANITA         241 

Pimas,  but  who  was  still  alive.  The  Pima  medicine  had 
more  of  virtue  than  the  white  magic  of  the  Castilians. 

"  Anita ! "  said  Tristan,  and  the  Piman  thought  that 
was  like  her  name. 

"  In  another  day  we  will  go,"  said  Tristan  turning 
to  me.  "  Another  day  of  rest  and  water  for  the  horses 
and  we  can  take  the  trail  —  my  poor  little  Anita ! " 

I  did  not  know  that  Sancha  had  walked  close  and 
halted  in  the  shadow  when  she  heard  an  Indian  talking 
with  us,  but  when  I  went  to  look  at  the  horses  I  met 
her  there,  and  her  look  was  strange. 

"  Where  do  you  go?  "  she  asked,  and  I  pointed  where 
the  horses  grazed. 

"  Where  is  the  trail  you  go  ?  "  she  persisted  —  "  the 
trail  for  his  Anita?" 

"  I  think  he  goes  north,"  I  said. 

"  I  do  not !  "  she  decided.  "  To  Kavorka  we  started, 
and  there  I  will  go !  " 

"  Sancha ! "  I  begged,  but  she  walked  away. 

"  I  learn  now  why  he  was  sleepless  on  the  trail  — 
and  why  we  were  made  ride  in  the  night  —  it  was  for 
a  woman ! "  she  said. 

"  It  was  indeed,  Sancha,"  I  answered,  "  he  went 
sleepless  to  guard  a  woman  who  disdained  the  sacri 
fice." 

She  halted  at  that  as. though  to  question  me,  but  I 
gave  her  no  chance.  Later  I  told  Tristan  Sancha  had 
set  her  mind  on  Kavorka. 

"With  the  Haquis  thick  between?"  he  said.  "I 
could  find  no  guard  strong  enough  for  that  trail  these 
days.  She  goes  with  us." 

"  But  —  she  has  set  her  mind,"  I  ventured  doubt- 


242     THE    HOUSE    OF   THE    DAWN 

fully,  whereat  he  laughed  with  a  grimness  in  which  there 
was  yet  sorrow. 

"  And  her  mind  has,  until  now,  been  the  rule  for  all 
who  came  near  her,"  he  conceded,  "  therefore  will  her 
dislike  of  me  be  even  greater  that  I  am  the  first  to 
change  that.  She  goes  with  us,  and  I  go  north." 

"To  find  Anita?" 

"  Ay :  and  to  find  the  man  who  cast  her  off  among 
savages ! "  and  he  looked  a  savage  himself  as  he  said 
it  though  his  voice  did  not  reach  beyond  the  ramada. 

"But  —  Sancha?"  and  my  soul  was  full  of  fear  be 
tween  the  two  tempers  of  fire. 

"  Tell  her  it  is  no  more  distance  north  where  there 
are  white  people  and  priests  than  it  is  back  to  Sinaloa ; 
also,  the  southern  trail  is  fenced  now  by  fighting  sav 
ages,  and  in  the  north  I  am  as  with  my  own  people,  and 
my  people  will  guard  my  friends." 

"And  I  am  to  be  the  one  to  tell  her?"  I  grumbled 
with  no  liking  for  the  task. 

"Why  not?  Will  she  not  see  him  —  Marco  — 
the  sooner? " 

That  seemed  a  good  reason,  though  his  bitter  smile 
was  not  comforting,  and  in  truth  I  found  myself  for 
getting  in  those  days  that  Marco  was  in  the  world. 
I  could  even  understand  Sancha's  word  that  she  hoped 
for  him,  prayed  for  him,  yet  ever  heard  the  voice  or  step 
of  the  other  man  in  her  dreams. 

So  I  took  to  her  the  boots,  and  helped  her  with  them 
while  Movi  smiled  at  us. 

"  Now  she  Hopi  womans,"  she  said,  "  good  Hopi 
boots." 

Sancha  asked  no  questions,  but  put  them  on  with 


=41 

THE    FINDING    OF    ANITA         243 

our  help,  and  Movi  showed  her  the  fastenings  at  the 
knee. 

"  Good  boot  for  trail  —  much  strong  —  good  mans," 
approved  Movi  with  her  gentle  smile,  "  good  trail  boot, 
me  too  —  I  go." 

Sancha  gave  little  heed  to  her  comment,  or  its  mean 
ings,  and  I  preferred  to  tell  her  when  alone  that  we 
were  all  to  go  north. 

But  when  I  did,  she  stared  at  me  in  disapproval  and 
walked  away.  Her  disappointment  in  me  was  plain. 

"  But  Sancha!  "  I  argued,  "  what  else  is  there  to  do? 
He  goes  north,  and  this  kind  Hopi  woman  goes  north. 
What  is  there  for  you  or  for  me  alone  in  this  village? 
Also  their  fighting  men  are  away  fighting.  If  their 
enemy  is  conqueror,  who  is  to  say  what  tribe  may  cover 
the  land?  Six  months  may  pass  before  Castilians  go 
the  south  trail;  and  even  so,  this  village  is  not  on  the 
trail." 

"  He  will  come  —  Marco.  He  will  find  me,"  she 
asserted  defiantly.  "  You  know  he  will  come." 

"  It  may  happen,"  I  agreed,  "  and  he  will  find  you 
tied  naked  under  some  other  tree,  or  dead  in  some  other 
canon." 

She  pointed  to  the  ruins  on  the  summit. 

"  I  am  going  there,"  she  said.  "  In  the  letters  he  told 
me  a  House  of  Dawn  was  a  house  of  refuge.  This  is 
the  first  House  of  Dawn  on  my  path  —  and  the  angels 
know  my  night  has  been  dark !  " 

"  You  must  save  your  strength  for  the  trail,"  I  called 
after  her,  but  she  set  off  across  the  little  plain. 

"  You  are  with  him,  and  against  my  wishes,"  she  re 
torted.  "  Everyone  is  with  him,  and  I  am  forgotten." 


^^v^a/c^^A^^v^U(^v^^^;v^^=^v^ 

244     THE    HOUSE    OF    THE    DAWN 

I  could  make  little  of  that,  for  daytime  and  nighttime 
our  thoughts  were  for  her  good,  yet  I  could  do  nought 
but  go  back  and  tell  him. 

"  And  she  has  gone  —  and  alone  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  Gone  she  has  —  to  find  a  place  of  refuge  from  us," 
I  grinned.  "  This  comes  of  your  teachings.  Her  heart 
is  set  on  finding  a  sanctuary  in  which  to  wait  for  the 
man  who  wrote  the  letters !  " 

He  arose,  and  took  a  stout  stave  for  walking. 

"  It  is  the  better  place,"  he  agreed.    "  I  will  go  up." 

I  walked  beside  him,  for  I  feared  his  weakness,  and 
we  stood  and  looked  as  she  climbed  terrace  after  terrace 
where  the  young  vultures  tried  their  wings. 

"  She  is  a  child  in  humors,  but  she  has  braveness," 
he  said  —  "  look  at  the  black  wings  above  her,  and  she 
does  not  once  falter." 

I  thought  it  a  strange  hour  to  praise  her  bravery 
when  it  was  causing  him  a  climb  for  which  he 
was  none  too  fit. 

"  That  height  is  not  a  trifle,"  I  warned  him,  "  it  is 
near  a  thousand  spans,  and  your  strength  is  not  re 
turned." 

"  The  climb  is  good  to  test  it,"  he  returned  —  "  and 
it  may  be  we  all  need  the  high  places  of  prayer  in  these 
days.  Strange  things  come  to  pass  in  lives.  I  never 
thought  to  stand  beside  her  at  any  House  of  the  Dawn." 

Beyond  that  we  did  not  speak,  for  I  could  not  well 
follow  his  thought.  What  could  he  hope  to  gain  in  any 
prayer  place,  when  she  fled  there  in  angry  mood? 

And  there  we  found  her  at  the  very  edge  of  the  flat 
rock  of  the  height,  and  between  us  was  the  ruin  of 
slabs  and  broken  pillar. 


.  "  1  i    .-- l 

iffi 


Over  her  head  she  had  drawn  the  cowl  of  the  robe 
when  among  the  great  birds.  They  were  settling  them 
selves  in  their  roosts  because  of  the  low  sinking  sun. 

I  halted  there  by  the  pillars,  but  he  crossed  the  sum 
mit,  and  his  step  was  so  light  on  the  stone  floor  that 
she  did  not  know  until  he  stood  beside  her. 

"  May  your  prayers  in  the  place  of  dawn  bring  to 
your  heart  happiness,  Excellencia,"  he  said,  and  so 
startled  was  she  that  she  made  a  step  away,  and  would 
have  slipped  at  the  edge  but  that  his  hand  caught  her. 

"  Your  pardon  for  me !  "  he  said,  as  she  stood  steady, 
and  he  drew  his  hand  away.  But  she  stared  at  him  as  if 
more  afraid  of  him  than  of  the  depths  below. 

"  Are  you  in  league  with  Indian  enchanters  ?  "  she 
asked.  "How  knew  you  that  I  made  prayers?  and 
have  you  hidden  wings  that  you  come  to  this  place 
without  sound?  " 

"  It  is  a  place  for  prayer,  and  I  know  your  spirit 
though  you  strive  to  hide  it  from  me,  Excellencia.  I 
may  not  bring  you  the  answer  to  the  prayer,  but  it  seems 
a  good  place  to  speak  with  you,  for  in  the  village  it  is 
not  so  easy." 

"  That  is  true,"  she  agreed ;  "  down  there  I  can  only 
see  you  as  you  entered  —  staggering,  and  myself  as  I 
was  —  but  how  know  you  that  it  is  hard  to  talk  to 
you  before  the  people?  You  have  helped  me,  but  you 
make  me  fear  you  —  the  thought  of  you  —  more  than 
the  Indians  can  do,  and  that  leaves  me  bewildered. 
Who  are  you,  Ivava  Alcatraz?" 

He  did  not  reply  to  that  at  once,  and  I,  beside  the 
pillar,  held  my  breath  and  heard  my  heart  thump  — 
would  he  tell  her? 


246     THE    HOUSE    OF    THE    DAWN 

"  At  least  you  have  called  me  by  the  Indio  word  for 
brother,  and  that  is  much  when  two  people  share  a  trail, 
and  it  is  also  gracious  of  you,  Excellencia.  But  my 
name  should  be  written  Kahn  Alcatraz  —  for  Kahn 
was  the  name  of  my  mother." 

"  It  is  a  strange  name,"  she  mused.  "  Kahn !  Is  it 
—  Indio?" 

"  No,  even  though  Indians  have  the  word,  and  the 
meaning  of  the  word,  while  it  is  lost  in  the  older  world." 

"  There,"  she  said  suddenly,  "  it  is  the  things  like 
that  which  seem  enchantment.  You  are  not  old,  yet 
you  know  the  things  of  old,  and  you  walk  into  a  tribe 
and  change  their  rules,  until  it  seems  they  too  fear  you, 
Is  it  wonder  I  deem  it  strange?  " 

"  If  affairs  seem  strange  to  unpleasantness  on  the 
trail,  ask  and  I  will  change  what  I  can,"  he  said. 

"  Then  you  will  turn  back  with  me?  "  and  there  was 
gladness  in  her  voice,  "  to  Kavorka  if  not  to  Sinaloa, 
you  have  come  to  tell  me  this?  " 

"  I  have  come  to  tell  you,  Excellencia,  that  we  start 
north  at  dawn,  and  that  the  next  white  faces  you  may 
see  will  be  at  Santa  Fe  in  New  Granada." 

"  But  I  told  Juanito  —  " 

"  Yes,  you  did,  but  this  is  a  trail  Juanito  cannot 
make  plans  for.  You  gave  no  reason,  Excellencia, 
and  —  " 

"  How  dared  I  give  the  true  reason?  and  why  now 
do  you  call  me  '  excellencia '  in  that  tone?"  she  de 
manded.  "  Is  it  in  mockery?  " 

"Mockery  —  of  you?"  he  said,  but  she  was  blazing 
in  quick  anger,  and  the  tone  of  his  voice  meant  nothing. 

"  You  have  shamed  me  more  than  the  garb  of  grass," 


THE    FINDING    OF    ANITA         247 

she  persisted.  "  You  came  to  my  rescue,  but  made  me 
a  laughing  stock.  You  tell  these  savages  that  I  belong 
to  you,  and  now  you  would  drag  me  north  on  your 
trail  because  of  some  woman  you  were  seeking  when 
you  crossed  our  path.  Well,  I  will  not  go !  This  I  did 
not  tell  Juanito,  else  there  would  be  a  day  of  reckoning 
for  you,  and  —  " 

"  Would  you  try,  even  in  your  anger,  to  save  me 
that  day  of  reckoning?"  he  asked. 

"  I  must  remember  you  did  me  service :  that  I  must 
remember,  even  though  you  did  tell  them  you  owned 
me,  as  if  I,  a  Llorente  y  Rivera,  were  but  a  chattel." 

At  that  I  stumbled  forward,  and  found  my  tongue. 

"  Sancha,  Sancha!  "  I  said,  "  if  he  is  exiled  from  your 
friendship  for  that,  I  too  must  go,  for  I  did  likewise !  " 

They  both  stared  at  me  as  if  I  was  the  Father  of 
Lies. 

"  Ay,  did  I !  but  with  no  effect,  you,  Sancha,  know 
that  is  true.  Did  I  anger  you  when  I  told  them  you 
were  mine,  of  my  family?  Should  I  show  anger  that  he 
called  me  his  brother  —  and  saved  me?  Arid  you  — 
your  life  he  has  given  back,  and  from  your  head  to  the 
tip  of  your  toe  he  has  clothed  you,  and  —  " 

"  No !  "  she  broke  in  sharply,  "  you  —  yourself  —  " 

"  I,  myself!  "  I  mocked.  "  What  could  I  do  here  but 
by  his  grace?  Sancha,  you  foster  a  pride  that  is  against 
all  reason.  This  is  not  your  life  of  ceremony  in  palaces, 
it  is  the  Brotherhood  of  the  Desert  where  men  and 
women  strive  for  life  together,  or  loyal  death  together ; 
are  you  above  that  brotherhood?" 

"  Boy ! "  he  said,  and  put  his  hand  on  my  arm  look 
ing  at  me  curiously.  I  do  not  know  what  I  appeared 


248     THE    HOUSE    OF    THE    DAWN 

to  them,  but  her  face  flushed  red  and  went  white  again 
as  she  stared  at  me,  and  I  was  shaking  as  I  Bung  aside 
his  hand. 

"  I  am  no  longer  a  boy  —  she  will  make  old  men  of 
both  of  us  on  one  summer's  journey,"  I  persisted. 
"  Even  now  she  does  not  measure  aright  your  sacrifices, 
and  pou  will  never  speak !  " 

"  There  is  nothing  to  say,"  he  stated  looking  at  me 
with  a  sternness  as  if  in  fear  I  would  lose  my  wits 
utterly,  and  blunder  further. 

"  There  is  something  to  say ! "  she  retorted.  "  Am  I 
a  fool  that  I  do  not  know  it,  and  feel  it?  The  very  air 
is  full  of  the  unspoken ;  it  weighs  me  down  —  it  makes 
me  afraid.  It  may  be  Juanito  is  right  that  it  makes  me 
also  unjust.  But  it  is  not  pride,  Juanito,  it  is  the  fear 
of  some  unknown  thing.  Even  my  dreams  make  me 
fear!  I  come  up  here  above  the  earth  to  the  House  of 
the  Dawn  —  yet  the  dawn  I  do  not  find." 

"  It  is  in  your  heart  you  must  find  the  dawn,  else 
a  false  dawn  may  bring  its  deceptions,  Excellencia," 
he  said,  and  I  wondered  at  the  steadiness  of  his  voice, 
for  his  eyes  were  devouring  the  proud  loveliness  of  her 
face. 

"  If  it  is  so,  it  will  be  for  the  reason  that  neither  you 
nor  Juanito  give  me  confidences.  You  make  plans  as  if 
for  a  child ;  you  keep  secrets,  and  your  thoughts  are  all 
for  some  one  else  —  some  woman  on  that  north  trail." 

"  If  you  see  her,  Excellencia,  you  perhaps  will  not 
have  wonder  at  that,"  he  said  gently,  "  and  some  day 
you  will  forgive  Juanito  and  me  any  harmless  secrets 
we  may  have." 

"  I  do  not  think  I  will  see  her.    I  do  not  think  I  will 


THE    FINDING    OF    ANITA         249 


go,"  she  said  pettishly.  "  Why  should  I  travel  deeper 
into  a  desert  where  there  is  no  comfort  ?  " 

"  Have  you  forgotten  so  quickly  the  man  you  crossed 
the  sea  to  find?"  I  asked  with  brutal  curtness,  at  least 
I  was  rougher  than  I  meant  to  be,  for  she  turned  away, 
and  her  hands  went  to  her  face  and  she  wept  despair 
ingly.  I  strove  to  make  excuse,  to  comfort  her,  but 
she  waved  me  away. 

"  Go,  both  of  you  !  "  she  said.  "  You  are  only  men, 
and  you  are  without  heart,  and  go  north  I  will  not  ;  why 
should  I?" 

"  Because  you  are  mine  to  save,  and  I  can  only 
save  you  by  claiming  you,  and  taking  you  with  me," 
he  said  steadily.  "  Never  fancy  it  is  a  journey  of 
pleasure  I  am  planning  for  any  of  us." 

At  that  she  ceased  weeping,  and  turned  to  me. 

"  Since  it  is  made  so  plain  that  it  is  no  pleasure  to 
take  me,  I  may  at  least  be  excused  from  gratitude," 
she  remarked  coldly.  "  I  am  only  carried  as  extra 
baggage  for  which  there  is  no  safe  warehouse  !  " 

He  made  no  reply,  but  his  eyes  held  all  of  sadness 
as  he  watched  her  walk  back  to  the  worn  trail.  Silent 
he  stood  there  against  the  darkling  sky,  for  the  blue 
haze  was  covering  the  mesas  of  the  east.  In  his  still 
ness  he  looked  akin  to  a  detached  pillar  of  the  ancient 
altar.  A  ray  of  the  afterglow  illumined  all  with  a 
strange  golden  green  light  for  an  instant,  and  Sancha 
caught  my  hand. 

"  He  looks  as  if  he  had  stood  there  from  the  begin 
ning  of  the  world,"  she  whispered,  "  and  waiting  —  wait 
ing  for  what?  He  is  like  no  other  man  on  earth."  Then 
after  a  little  she  continued.  "  My  first  hour  at  a  shrine 


250     THE    HOUSE    OF    THE    DAWN 

of  the  dawn  is  not  what  I  prayed  for,  but  that  man ;  — 
Juanito,  he  makes  all  things  fit  his  own  plans,  even 
prayers ! " 

Between  the  two  of  them,  I  was  past  asking  ques 
tions  of  her  meaning,  and  I  got  her  safely  down  the 
terraces  as  the  dusk  came,  but  the  stars  were  out  before 
he  followed. 

My  sleep  was  over  light  because  of  my  doubts  of  her 
going  in  willingness,  yet  she  came  out  of  the  hut  at  the 
first  call  of  the  white  dawn,  and  looked  like  a  most 
lovely  martyr  sacrificed  to  our  selfishness. 

We  had  our  three  rested  horses,  and  a  burro  brought 
from  the  hills  for  Movi,  who  plainly  said  she  would 
prefer  to  walk.  Sancha  listened  to  the  argument  which 
ended  in  the  obedience  of  the  Indian  girl,  and  then 
in  proud  silence  she  mounted  her  own  animal,  and  said 
her  farewells  to  the  old  chief  and  those  who  had  shown 
good  intent. 

"  It  is  a  new  thing  for  one  of  our  family  to  leave 
a  poor  village  no  richer  for  a  visit,  Juanito,"  she  said 
with  a  sort  of  self  pity.  "  We  seem  to  have  fallen  into 
mean  estate  in  the  new  land." 

Beyond  that  she  favored  me  with  few  words,  as  if  to 
punish  me  for  what  she  deemed  adherence  to  his  cause. 
She  showed  her  disapproval  of  us  both  by  riding  beside 
Movi,  and  that  little  person  was  vastly  flattered,  dis 
coursing,  on  request,  concerning  her  own  wonderful 
home  of  the  northern  desert,  and  her  eagerness  to  return 
to  the  ancient  land  of  Tusayan. 

We  were  well  supplied  with  all  the  outfittings  of  an 
Indian  camp  —  ground  meal,  parched  maize,  and  dried 
deer  meat  —  and  with  an  archer's  bow  for  myself  and 


• ..  .,^**ui*+^***i*^*Ki*m*im****mr*+**~mM*+—*M********»i^^ 

THE    FINDING    OF   ANITA        251 

the  arquebus  of  Tristan,  we  were  fairly  provided  for 
defense.  For  the  first  day  we  followed  the  river  to 
the  north  and  east  and  reached  a  peaceful  village  where 
we  rested  for  the  night,  and  an  Indio  guide  kept  us 
company  for  two  days  longer,  trotting  beside  the  horse 
of  Tristan  as  if  the  leagues  were  but  a  holiday  run 
over  the  desert,  where,  to  my  untaught  eyes,  there  was 
no  sign  of  a  road.  At  need  we  made  long  days  to  find 
the  best  water  places,  and  passed  from  the  desert  bloom 
and  giant  cactus  into  valleys  where  the  palo  fierro  and 
aliso  trees  were  things  of  beauty,  and  the  desert  willow 
gave  its  yellow  bloom. 

At  the  temper  ales  —  the  summer  ranches  by  the  fields 
and  water  holes  —  the  friendly  Indians  showed  us 
courtesies  in  their  own  way;  offerings  of  mescal  roots 
and  sahauro  wine  were  brought,  also  fresh  killed  ante 
lope,  and  brown  beans  cooked  in  vessels  of  burned  clay. 
All  these  became  things  of  enjoyment  to  Sancha  until 
she  seemed  ashamed  of  idle  hands,  and  had  much  amuse 
ment  in  being  taught  the  ways  of  primitive  women, 
until  at  one  place  of  rest  she  strove  to  form  a  vessel 
of  clay,  and  was  sweet  tempered  again,  and  laughed  with 
me  when  I  showed  her  its  crooked  side. 

There  were  hours  when  she  became  gay  over  trifles, 
and  wreathed  flowers  and  vines  to  wear  as  shade  from 
the  sun,  and  then  there  were  long  moments  when  she 
watched  Tristan  in  converse  with  Indian  friends,  as  if 
in  silent  query  as  to  the  secret  of  his  influence,  and 
to  me  she  called  him  "  Your  Senor  Ivava." 

Once  he  heard  this,  and  smiled. 

"  It  is  honor,  Excellencia,  to  be  given  as  brother  even 
to  your  kinsman,"  he  said. 


252     THE    HOUSE    OF   THE    DAWN 

"  Without  kindred  to  the  others  of  the  family !  "  she 
retorted,  mockingly.  "  Juanito,  you  alone  are  adopted. 
You  can  expect  an  Indian  naming  and  baptizing  when 
we  find  leisure  —  and  find  water  enough!  Movi  tells 
me  the  baptism  of  her  people  is  a  headwashing  in  a 
bowl  of  foam.  Have  you  shared  that  pagan  rite,  Senor 
Don  Kahn  Alcatraz?" 

"  It  was  my  good  fortune,"  he  assented,  "  else  Movi 
here  could  not  call  me  brother." 

Thus  with  quiet  courtesy  he  met  either  her  mockery 
or  her  silence,  but  she  regarded  him  curiously  when  he 
said  that. 

"  And  you  did  not  fear  it  as  a  pagan  enchanting 
by  which  your  soul  would  be  dangered?  "  she  asked. 

"  If  ever  chance  should  take  you  to  that  people  of 
peace  —  whose  very  religion  is  against  angry  thoughts 
in  the  heart,  you  would  know  their  simple  ceremony  of 
baptism  could  work  no  ill,"  he  made  answer. 

"  Would  the  officers  of  the  Holy  Brotherhood  agree 
with  you  in  that?  "  she  asked. 

"  I  shall  not  return  on  the  trail  to  make  inquiry,"  he 
answered.  "  None  of  the  officers  have  ever  seen  the 
peaceful  lives  of  the  Hopi  people." 

"  Yet,  as  a  good  Christian,  you  must  know  there  can 
be  but  one  baptism,"  she  persisted;  and  at  this  speech 
of  religions  and  the  Holy  Office  there  came  back  to  me 
the  dread  for  him,  and  I  begged  them  to  consider  more 
cheerful  things  than  religion,  since  we  were  such  weary 
leagues  from  even  a  chapel. 

"  Talk  not  of  chapels  either,  Juanito,"  she  said.  "  I 
would  I  had  waited  back  there  by  the  chapel  with  my 
dreams." 


THE    FINDING    OF    ANITA 

She  walked  away  from  us,  and  sat  alone  under  a 
mesquite  until  the  saddles  were  on,  and  when  I  went 
for  her  there  were  tears  in  her  eyes,  and  she  pointed 
to  a  white  butterfly  drifting  over  low  creeping  desert 
blooms. 

"  He  called  me  that  in  the  letters  —  and  I  have  lost 
the  letters,"  she  said.  "  He  painted  that  dream  picture 
of  me  in  the  chapel,  and  I  have  wandered  into  the 
deserts  away  from  the  chapel.  Juanito,  that  is  not  all, 

that  place  of  the  House  of  the  Dawn  had  witchcraft 
r 

—  I  know  it !  I  have  never  been  the  same  in  my  dreams 
since  that  time,  and  —  yes,  I  was  weeping  because  of 
it!  for  never  once  have  I  thought  of  Marco  until  that 
butterfly  comes  and  will  not  go  away.  I  am  frightened 
at  myself  to  whom  I  am  a  stranger,  and  my  thoughts 

are  of  new  and  different  things.    What  but  a  witchcraft 

° 

could  make  that,  Juanito?  " 

"  Come,  he  is  waiting,"  I  said,  and  at  that  she 
laughed. 

"  Come,  he  is  waiting !  "  she  mocked.  "  All  things 
in  the  Desert  begin  and  end  with  him!  You  also  only 
echo  what  he  thinks.  We  are  dragged  along  on  this 
trail  to  some  woman  whom  he  seeks,  but  never  makes 
discourse  of.  There  is  some  wrong  thing  covered  in 
all  this,  Juanito.  Why  should  a  white  woman  remain 
with  others  than  her  own  kind?" 

I  did  not  answer,  and  she  caught  my  hand. 

"  Is  it  that  —  he  loves  her?  "  she  asked  watching  the 
still  face  of  Tristan. 

"  I  think  it  is  so  —  or  has  been  so,"  I  answered  truly, 
"  for  at  the  last  camp  he  had  word  that  she  is  on  the 
way  to  death,  and  as  you  see,  he  is  a  troubled  man." 


•  r 


254     THE    HOUSE    OF    THE    DAWN 

"  I  see,"  she  said  softly,  "  death  must  be  a  sad  thing 
where  there  is  love,  and  love  itself  is  sad  enough." 

I  could  not  see  how  love  could  teach  her  sadness 
since  only  the  shadow  love  had  come  to  her  —  the  mere 
dream  of  a  maid,  and  not  the  knowledge  of  truth.  Also 
I  rode  beside  her  with  a  strangely  divided  mind  at 
thought  of  love  and  the  lessons  of  love  ;  for  while,  as 
a  Christian,  I  must  pray  for  the  life  of  poor  Anita,  I 
found  myself  wishing  that  if  the  end  was  near,  it  might 
come  before  we  reached  her  abiding  place  at  the  north 
village,  Tuquison. 

But  this  was  not  to  be.  Indians  with  horses  came 
out  to  meet  us  on  the  trail,  for  their  heralds  had  seen  us 
afar,  and  after  spoken  words  of  friendliness  for  our 
care,  Tristan  accepted  a  fresh  horse  and  rode  on  alone 
quickly. 

Without  word  to  either  of  us  he  went,  and  Sancha, 
gazing  after  him,  had  a  white  face  of  dismay.  It  was 
the  first  time  he  had  ever  ignored  her  presence,  or  left 
without  courtesy  to  her,  and  I  tried  to  explain,  but 
she  shook  her  head. 

"  You  are  good,  Juanito,  you  think  it  is  my  pride 
that  is  hurt,  the  pride  of  a  Llorente  y  Rivera.  How  it 
all  dwindles  and  fades  here  in  the  great  wilderness. 
What  is  our  rank  worth  here?  Would  the  viceroy  him 
self  have  power  like  this  stranger  whose  word  saves 
us,  and  whose  hand  clothes  me?  Juanito,  when  a  debt 
is  heavy  as  this  it  weighs,  it  weighs  !  And,  cousin  mine, 
he  flings  us  all  this  without  thought,  and  rides  to  find 
the  other  —  the  woman  who  makes  him  sad." 

It  was  the  first  time  she  had  ever  betrayed  so  much, 
but  I  could  see  that  despite  her  resentment,  and  moods 


THE    FINDING    OF    ANITA         255 

of  mockery,  she  did  not  underrate  his  importance  as 
guardian  in  the  wild  places.  She  meant  to  be  just,  yet 
the  woman  in  her  resented  what  she  dared  not  disdain. 

And  into  that  village  we  rode  as  in  state,  for  beside 
us  were  his  Indio  friends  with  smiles  and  kind  welcome, 
and  on  Sancha  in  the  monk's  robe  they  looked  with 
wondering  eyes,  also  one  of  the  older  men  touched  a 
turquoise  pendant  on  the  rosary  she  wore,  and  pointed 
to  himself  that  we  might  know  the  jewel  was  his  gift, 
and  that  it  was  pledge  of  friendliness. 

A  dwelling  was  given  us  at  the  edge  of  the  village, 
and  there  water  was  brought,  and  food,  but  we  saw 
nothing  of  Tristan.  Sancha  asked  no  question,  but 
wandered,  restless,  about  the  village,  or  stood  looking 
north  where  the  heat  waves  rippled  upward,  and  the 
candelabra  of  the  giant  cactus  made  dark  lines  against 
the  blue.  When  she  returned,  Movi  had  disappeared  — 
sent  for  by  Ivava,  said  the  wife  of  the  village  chief. 

Sancha  looked  at  me  half  accusingly. 

"  You  should  have  kept  her  until  I  came,"  she  said. 
"I  —  I  have  been  thinking  about  that  —  and  if  the 
woman  is  white  —  " 

"  Sancha !  Sancha !  "  I  said,  perceiving  her  struggle, 
and  knowing  her  pride.  "  The  Brotherhood  of  the 
Desert  asks  neither  rank  nor  color  when  sickness  comes, 
or  death  comes." 

"  But  it  was  Movi  he  asked,  and  not  me,"  she  per 
sisted. 

"  Have  you  not  thought  that  he  also  may  have  his 
pride?  "  I  asked. 

She  pondered  this  a  moment,  troubled,  and  pale  under 
all  the  tan  of  the  sun. 


256     THE    HOUSE    OF    THE    DAWN 

"  I  have  failed  in  all  things,"  she  said  at  last.  "  I 
resented  that  woman  because  he  explained  nothing,  yet 
it  was  no  fault  of  hers.  You  shall  take  me  to  her." 

I  scarce  knew  how  to  do  so  for  Tristan  had  given  me 
neither  word  nor  hint  of  his  wishes.  It  was  as  if  he 
left  for  Fate  to  finish  that  which  Fate  had  so  strangely 
begun. 

With  the  wife  of  the  chief  as  guide,  we  went  out  past 
the  gardens  or  little  fields  to  a  wattled  hut  and  ramada; 
beyond  were  the  pools  where  women  filled  their  woven 
and  waxed  water  vases.  As  we  approached,  Movi  came 
to  meet  us,  and  her  face  was  very  grave. 

"  Ivava  goes  for  other  water  because  she  asks  it," 
she  said.  "  Yes,  it  is  far.  He  is  knowing  there  is  no 
use  —  yet  she  asks.  Sometimes  the  mind  is  gone  away, 
and  she  called  for  many  things  —  but  none  of  the 
things  can  he  bring  but  the  water." 

Even  as  she  spoke,  Tristan  appeared  beyond  the 
dwelling  with  a  water  vase  of  the  desert,  and  in  the 
shadow  of  the  ramada  we  saw  him  kneel,  and  lift  up 
to  drink  the  woman  lying  there. 

We  had  not  seen  her  before  —  so  still  she  lay  that  it 
looked  like  a  mere  heap  of  deer  skins  and  a  striped 
blanket  of  Indio  weave.  Her  face  was  very  white  and 
her  eyes  had  the  strange  glisten  which  comes  before 
the  end.  I  had  seen  it  with  Don  Rodrigo,  and  thus 
I  knew. 

"  Drink,  Anita,  dear  little  one,"  said  Tristan  in  a 
voice  of  tenderness  Sancha  had  never  heard.  She  caught 
my  hand,  and  I  could  feel  her  tremble. 

"  It  is  good,"  whispered  Anita,  haltingly,  "  you  have 
come  far  —  they  call  you  here,  Ivava  —  Ivava,  and  that 


The  Finding  of  Anita. 


THE    FINDING    OF    ANITA         257 

is  dear  to  them !  You  will  not  do  him  wrong?  You  will 
not?" 

"  Comfort  you,  and  sleep  content,  Anita  mine,"  he 
said  lowly,  for  even  as  she  spoke,  her  eyes  closed,  but 
as  he  drew  away  his  hand,  she  muttered,  "  Do  not  go. 
Do  not  leave  me,  beloved.  I  will  grow  strong  —  a  little 
rest,  and  I  can  ride  beside  you  —  a  little  rest,  beloved." 

"  She  sleeps,  Movi,"  said  Tristan  as  he  arose  from  be 
side  her,  "  guard  her  again  until  I  come." 

He  turned  away  without  even  sight  of  Sancha  and  me 
standing  close  beside  the  wattled  hut.  I  would  have 
spoken,  but  her  hand  held  me  with  a  grip  for  silence, 
and  her  eyes  were  fixed  on  the  girl  there,  and  a  ring 
on  her  hand.  It  held  an  emerald,  and  was  the  one 
painted  into  that  portrait  so  admired  by  Sancha  as  a 
child. 

"  The  ring  of  Marco !  "  she  whispered.  "  See  you, 
Juanito,  it  is  the  ring  of  Marco  she  wears!  They 
have  killed  Marco  —  these  savages  he  calls  friends ! 
it  is  the  ring  of  Marco!  " 

It  was,  but  I  tried  to  lie  out  of  it  with  some  pretext 
of  a  copy  made  of  it  —  or  such  reasonable  thought  — 
but  it  was  a  useless  effort,  for  Anita  opened  her  eyes 
full  on  Sancha  at  the  name  of  Marco. 

"Is  —  he  come  back  —  Marco?"  and  her  thin  voice 
was  sharp  with  eagerness.  "  Was  it  you  —  said  his 
name?  Tell  him  —  for  God's  love  tell  him  to  come 
quickly.  But  how  is  it?  and  who  are  you?  and  why — " 

Her  voice  trailed  out  in  weakness,  and  I  moved  back 
out  of  her  range  as  Sancha  went  forward  swiftly. 

"  I  am  Marquesa  de  Llorente  y  Rivera,"  she  said. 
"  Who  are  you  to  wear  that  ring?  " 


258     THE    HOUSE    OF    THE    DAWN 

"  How  —  wonderful  you  are  —  as  they  said,"  mur 
mured  poor  Anita,  "  yet  —  he  never  gave  love  to  you  — 
never  —  never!  With  me  beside  him  he  rode  north, 
and  left  Tristan  to  write  you  the  letters  —  Tristan,  so 
dear  —  so  good !  But  Excellencia  —  he  never  loved  you 
—  never  —  never  —  never !  "  Then  her  eyes  closed,  and 
she  lay  whispering  —  "  Marco  —  Marco." 

The  face  of  Sancha  was  staring  white. 

"Who  is  she  to  say  these  things?"  she  demanded, 
and  put  her  hand  on  the  shoulder  of  Anita  as  if  to  shake 
her  into  senses  again,  but  I  stopped  her. 

"  A  poor  soul  who  will  soon  be  no  more  on  earth, 
Sancha,"  I  said,  "  also  she  has  loved  much,  and  been 
left  behind,  is  not  that  enough?" 

"  No,"  she  said,  and  flung  off  my  hand.  "  No  —  it 
is  not  true  —  not  true  of  Marco  —  not  —  "  then  she 
stopped  and  looked  at  me. 

"  The  letters !  "  she  whispered,  "  did  you  hear?  How 
did  this  creature  by  the  wayside  know  of  letters  to 
me?  And  Tristan!  who  is  Tristan?" 

"  Sancha  dear  —  come  away !  "  I  begged  of  her.  "  You 
might  as  well  ask  who  is  Juan,  or  Pedro,  or  Pablo. 
Her  mind  is  going,  she  uses  names  she  does  not  know." 

"  She  does  know,"  she  insisted  coldly.  "  I  heard  that 
name  also  in  the  village  by  the  hill  of  the  dawn  —  yes, 
I  did!  Not  know?  she  knows  too  much  of  me  and 
mine  to  die  not  telling.  Juanito,  if  you  love  me,  take 
yourself  out  of  this  matter.  Awake  —  girl  —  arouse 
and  tell  me!  Who  wrote  the  letters?  " 

Poor  Anita,  shocked  into  life  again,  lifted  her  head 
and  strove. 

"  Excellencia,  he  adored  you  always  —  I  think  —  al- 


THE    FINDING    OF    ANITA         259 

ways!  Marco  did  not  know  that  —  no  —  he  did  not 
know." 

"  Tell  me  —  of  the  letters !  " 

"  It  was  a  jest  —  Excellencia.  They  tossed  dice  to 
decide  which  man  should  write  the  letters  to  you,  for 
Marco  had  love  for  none  but  me,  not  Dona  Perfecta  — 
not  you  —  for  me  only  —  Marco !  Marco !  " 

She  sank  back  with  his  name  on  her  lips,  and  Sancha 
knelt,  trembling,  looking  down  in  the  blue  white  face. 

"  It  is  a  lie !  "  she  said.    "  It  is  all  a  lie !  " 

But  even  as  she  spoke  she  fell  limp,  and  when  Movi 
brought  Tristan,  he  found  me  between  a  dead  girl,  and 
one  who  looked  like  death. 


CHAPTER  XVI 
IN  THE  PAINTED  DESERT 

IT  WAS  the  third  time  I  had  seen  death  on  the  long 
trail  —  the  husband  of  Movi,  the  warrior  Hotaku, 
and  now  the  poor  little  maid  who  had  been  all  alight 
with  the  sparkle  of  love  when  last  I  had  seen  her. 
What  I  could,  I  did,  to  help  Tristan,  but  his  wish  was 
that  I  wait  upon  Sancha,  and  leave  to  him,  and  to  Movi, 
the  last  care  of  little  Anita. 

To  Sancha  I  gave  no  sign  that  my  eyes  had  ever  be 
fore  looked  upon  the  poor  waif  of  love  left  by  the  way 
side,  but  when  told  the  grave  was  ready,  she  arose  and 
took  my  hand. 

"  Come,  Juanito,"  she  said,  "  she  is  to  us  a  mystery  of 
the  Desert.  Yet  you  say  there  is  brotherhood  here 
among  men,  why  not  also  sisterhood?  I  think  that  she 
was  false,  but  that  is  between  her  own  soul  and  God." 

So  she  stood  beside  me,  and  looked  in  the  placid  face 
of  the  dead  girl,  and  her  voice  joined  with  that  of 
Tristan  in  the  prayer  for  the  dead,  while  the  Indians, 
sad  faced,  yet  curious,  ranged  at  either  side  and  listened. 

I  felt  as  if  in  some  strange  dream  as  I  watched  the 
white  man  and  the  maid  at  either  side  of  that  grave, 
and  heard  their  blended  tones  in  prayer.  It  was  the 
unbelieveable  thing  which  had  happened  —  it  made  the 
way  clear  for  Marco  and  happiness,  if  only  chance  could 

260 


LflMJ  LSriJlHJ  15  UlH 
IN  THE  PAINTED   DESERT        261 

wipe  the  memory  of  the  girl's  words  from  the  mind  of 
Sancha.  But  to  me  that  grave  seemed  as  the  close 
of  a  chapter  in  those  lives.  It  was  the  two  living 
people  who  filled  my  thoughts,  and  not  the  poor  child 
on  the  bed  of  dry  grasses  in  the  shallow  trench. 

The  hands  of  Anita  were  folded  over  her  breast  and 
the  ring  was  there.  Sancha  looked  at  it,  and  at  me. 

"  That  is  well,"  she  said,  "  for  surely  it  meant  much 
to  her.  If  it  is  duplicate,  it  is  hers,  and  if  it  is  the  true 
ring  of  Marco  de  Ordono,  then  he  also  is  hers  if  alive, 
and  none  of  mine.  But  that  I  do  not  believe." 

Tristan  heard  her,  but  said  nothing  and  motioned 
me  to  take  her  away  as  the  crude  hoes  of  the  Indies 
scraped  the  earth  on  top  of  the  cover  of  dry  grasses. 

"  He  loved  her  so  that  he  followed  her  far,"  said 
Sancha,  "  yet  he  weeps  not  at  her  going.  The  love  of 
men  is  a  curious  thing." 

"  Yet  if  she  loved  not  him,  would  a  wise  man  mourn?  " 
I  asked. 

"  She  was  fond,  that  we  could  overhear,  and  so  was 
he,"  she  replied,  and  so  strongly  was  she  sure  of  his 
love  for  the  dead  girl  that  it  seemed  a  safe  belief  to 
encourage  her  in.  I  was  willing  she  should  think  all 
things  but  the  truth. 

With  some  of  his  Indio  friends,  he  ate  the  evening 
meal,  and  came  not  to  us  until  the  sun  had  gone.  The 
Desert  was  sinking  to  rest  in  the  blanket  of  misty  blue 
greens,  and  the  mountains  to  the  north  were  against  the 
sky  in  faint  amethyst.  Sancha  had  stood,  as  if  fascinated 
by  the  beauty  of  it  while  it  changed  through  the  many 
tints  of  pink  and  purple,  and  then  blended  with  the 
dusky  plain. 


262      THE    HOUSE    OF    THE    DAWN 

Tristan  coming  slowly  towards  us,  noted  her  gaze 
and  turned  to  look. 

"  Forests  and  running  streams  are  beyond  there,"  he 
remarked.  "  For  a  little  journey  we  will  see  no  desert." 

"  But  —  from  here  we  go  back !  "  she  said.  "  I  was 
looking  into  the  north  as  a  land  we  will  not  cross." 

"  Cross  it  I  must,"  he  replied,  "  and  in  safety  must 
leave  you  with  Governor  Otermin  of  New  Granada." 

"  The  Governor  of  New  Granada  is  a  stranger  to  me," 
she  said,  "  and  I  feel  no  call  to  visit  his  province,  my 
wish  is  to  free  myself  from  this  endless  trail,  and  go 
back  to  Sinaloa." 

For  a  moment  they  faced  each  other  in  mute  battle  of 
wills,  then  he  smiled  slightly. 

"  Excellencia,  when  you  chose  to  ignore  my  rules  of 
march,  and  rode  your  horse  out  of  reach  of  the  guard, 
you  closed  behind  you  the  only  gate  to  Sinaloa  this 
year.  In  October  you  may  have  chance  with  the  con- 
ducta  of  traders  to  go  south  from  Sante  Fe  to  El  Paso, 
and  thence  to  Mexico,  but  first  we  must  guard  you  safely 
to  Sante  Fe.  We  are  at  the  edge  of  the  Apache  lands 
where  only  large  cavalcades  feel  safe  —  yet  we  must 
find  a  way  past  them.  Here  you  could  not  remain,  the 
water  alone  would  kill  you." 

She  looked  at  him  with  mutinous,  unbelieving  eyes. 

"  You  have  thought  this  out  for  my  safety  that  it 
may  fit  your  own  will,"  she  said  coldly.  "  I  heard  her 
—  the  girl  who  died  —  beg  you  off  from  some  plan  — 
some  vengeance  perhaps,  and  it  lies  on  that  north  trail, 
she  begged  you  to  do  him  no  wrong." 

"  But  you  heard  no  promise,"  he  reminded  her,  "  and 
it  will  not  be  wrong  I  do,  but  right." 


IN  THE  PAINTED   DESERT        263 

"  Because  she  followed  his  trail,  how  was  he  to  help 
that?"  she  demanded,  "and  because  she  died  on  the 
way  ere  he  was  found,  you  would  follow  for  vengeance, 
Kahn  Alcatraz?" 

He  only  looked  at  her,  letting  her  think  what  she 
would. 

"  If  she  gave  him  love  instead  of  you,  how  can  ven 
geance  alter  that?"  she  persisted.  "Love  goes  where 
it  will,  it  is  not  to  be  bound.  Who  appoints  you  judge? 
As  a  Christian  you  will  do  the  thing  she,  in  dying, 
asked  of  you  —  and  you  will  go  back?  " 

"  No,  Excellencia,"  he  said  with  a  little  sigh  as  he 
looked  southward  where  prison  or  the  stake  waited  him, 
"  no,  it  is  not  so  written.  I  shall  not  go  back." 

"  And  I  must  go  north  beside  you  whether  I  wish  it 
or  no  ?  "  she  asked  frowning. 

"  So  it  seems,"  he  said  quietly,  "  there  is  no  other 
v/ay.  None  of  us  wish  it,  Excellencia  —  but  the  way 
through  the  land  of  the  Haquis  is  closed  these  days  — 
there  is  no  other  way." 

"  Do  you  know  that  the  man  you  go  north  to  reckon 
with  is  the  man  to  whom  I  am  betrothed?  "  she  asked, 
and  he  bowed  as  though  receiving  a  gracious  confidence. 

"  I  would  it  were  another,"  he  said,  "  but  the  Fates 
often  arrange  affairs  without  consulting  us." 

"  To  be  loyal  I  announce  that  I  will  only  ride  north 
beside  you  to  warn  him  against  your  intent,"  she  said, 
and  again  he  bent  his  head. 

"  That  is  as  must  be,  and  we  will  lose  no  time  on  the 
way." 

"  Never  fear  that  I  shall  be  laggard,"  she  retorted, 
"  my  —  love  —  will  keep  pace  with  your  evil  intent. 


THE    HOUSE    OF    THE    DAWN 


I  rejoice  you  are  so  frank  even  in  injustice  to  him, 
and  I  shall  ride  north  beside  you  to  —  to  learn  some 
truths,"  she  ended,  lamely  enough. 

"  God  send  you  learn  all  truth  of  comfort  to  you  in 
this  world,  Excellencia,"  he  said  quietly,  "  and  that  I 
may  be  your  guide  on  the  way." 

"  I  do  not  know  how  I  may  accept  guidance  or  cour 
tesies  from  one  who  bears  him  ill,"  she  debated.  "  I 
know  nothing  of  your  family,  or  even  if  you  are  nearly 
enough  to  his  rank  for  righting." 

"  God,  the  Father,  will  enlighten  us  on  that  when 
the  time  comes,"  he  said,  "  but  of  the  man  you  trust, 
and  the  little  maid  in  the  grave,  we  will  not  speak,  and 
on  your  trail  to  truths  the  rank  of  a  desert  guide  will 
not  be  an  important  thing.  We  start  at  dawn." 

He  bowed  to  her  and  walked  away,  and  she  turned 
to  me  with  appealing  outreached  hands. 

"  Juanito,  what  other  thing  could  the  saints  send 
for  my  trial  of  the  spirit?  "  she  asked.  "  How  or  why 
should  I  do  else  but  hate  him?  Who  is  he  to  set  him 
self  a  task  against  an  Ordono?  " 

"  Sancha,  when  we  accept  food  and  shelter  by  his 
courtesy,  it  ill  beseems  us  to  question  whence  he  came," 
I  said,  "  for  without  him  we  would  both  be  dead  in  this 
far  wilderness.  Hate  is  the  last  thing  we  should  give 
him." 

"  I  do  not  agree,"  she  answered,  "  his  gifts  weigh  too 
heavily.  I  tell  myself  over  and  over  the  different  ways 
I  should  give  him  dislike." 

"  Is  it  so  hard  a  thing  to  do  that  you  must  school 
yourself  to  the  task?  "  I  asked  lightly  enough,  but  she 
did  not  take  it  lightly. 


IN   THE   PAINTED   DESERT        265 

"  You  admire  him  too  greatly  to  be  just,  and  you 
are  no  help  to  me,"  she  accused.  "  We  should  both 
remember  it  is  an  Ordono  he  is  set  against.  Have  you 
no  loyalty  ?  " 

"  Loyalty?  Sancha,  we  may  both  have  our  loyalty 
tested  on  this  journey  of  yours  to  learn  certain  truths." 
This  was  as  far  as  I  dared  go,  for  she  stopped  me  with 
a  cry  of  protest. 

"  Juanito !  You  don't  believe  it !  That  girl  was  ill  to 
madness,  and  —  yes  —  it  is  true  perhaps  that  she  loved 
him,  and  that  strange  things  were  in  her  mind  at  the 
last,  but  Juanito,  do  you  not  see  he  could  not  be  to  blame 
regarding  her?  Why,  it  proves  itself:  she  was  alone  — 
would  he  —  noble  as  he  is  —  have  left  her  alone  if  there 
had  been  any  bond?  Never,  never  in  the  world!  I  do 
not  know  who  the  girl  was  —  or  how  she  learned"  — 
then  she  halted,  and  I  knew  she  was  back  again  at 
thought  of  the  letters. 

"  Go  you  to  sleep,  Juanito,"  she  said,  "  and  —  be  loyal 
as  you  can  until  the  truth  is  learned." 

She  did  not  make  clear  to  what  or  whom  I  was  to 
be  loyal,  so  I  gave  it  my  own  reading  and  went  to 
sleep  as  she  bade  me,  well  content. 

She  was  at  least  started  on  the  path  to  the  truth, 
and  if  the  break  came  when  she  met  Marco,  it  could 
not  be  the  shock  it  might  have  been  but  for  Anita  and 
her  lightning  flash  of  disclosure  as  to  the  letters.  What 
a  fool  he  had  been,  Marco,  to  flatter  a  little  peasant's 
vanity  by  telling  her  how  much  she  excelled  the  ladies 
of  rank  who  waited  for  him!  Yet  that  was  the  Marco 
I  knew,  and  the  Marco  Sancha  had  never  heard  rec 
ord  of. 


266      THE    HOUSE    OF    THE    DAWN 

A  day  further  in  the  journey  we  learned  that  the 
peaceful  Indians  of  the  rancherias  had  been  raided  by 
their  hereditary  enemy,  the  Apache,  and  a  heavy  smoke 
to  the  north  and  east  showed  us  that  one  of  them  had 
fired  the  grasses  to  halt  pursuit;  that  way  we  could 
not  go  with  horses  to  be  fed. 

"  It  must  be  the  trail  past  Sivanoki  —  the  Casa 
Grande,"  decided  Tristan,  "  and  you,  Movi,  will  be 
the  sooner  home." 

I  was  not  ill  pleased  at  the  word  that  we  go  through 
the  land  of  strange  contrasts  of  which  I  had  heard  much 
on  the  trail.  Movi  had  told  willingly  of  the  mystic 
rites  of  the  Navajo  who  made  prayers  in  deep  canons, 
and  made  wonderful  singings  of  ancient  songs  to  their 
gods.  These  tales  of  wild  chants  of  the  night,  and  the 
strange  dwellings  of  the  Divine  Ones  who  once  lived 
on  earth,  filled  my  soul  with  desires  for  which  my 
confessor  would  have  set  me  a  stiff  penance,  and  the 
enchantment  of  it  to  this  day  remains  in  my  mind  as 
do  the  tales  of  the  Arabians  or  the  romances  of  the 
Crusades. 

There,  however,  at  the  gate  of  the  province  of  the 
red  and  jealous  warriors,  we  outfitted  in  a  different 
way  than  when  we  took  departure  from  Culiacan  and 
Sinaloa.  Shields  of  bull's-hide  carried  we,  every  one, 
with  lances  and  knives,  and  bows  and  arrows  also  for 
the  women.  Movi  could  send  an  arrow  like  a  man,  and 
in  the  village  where  we  were  captive  Sancha  more 
than  once  had  entered  into  the  game  of  archery  with 
the  young  savages ;  not  that  she  shot  well,  but  her  arm 
was  strong  and  her  eye  steady,  and  all  she  needed  was 
practice. 


IN   THE   PAINTED   DESERT        267 

And  well  pleased  she  seemed  with  the  new  weapons, 
for,  as  she  explained  to  me,  she  would  not  feel  so  much 
the  need  of  being  cared  for  like  a  child. 

Strange  enough  they  looked,  those  two  in  the  garb 
of  monks,  yet  armed  with  painted  shield  and  good  strong 
bows.  Movi  made  pleasure  for  us  by  reading  the  pagan 
symbols  on  the  shields  we  carried.  Mine  had  the  light 
ning,  Tristan's  had  lines  of  falling  rain  and  a  sacred 
plant  of  their  priests,  while  that  of  Sancha  was  the 
most  important  —  it  had  the  Father  Sun  and  the 
Mother  Moon,  and  the  morning  star. 

"  But  it  is  not  a  star,  it  is  a  cross,"  said  Sancha. 

"  Morning  star,"  insisted  Movi.  "  Morning  Star  is  the 
son  of  the  Mother  Moon.  He  is  in  the  sky  when  she 
goes  away,  and  he  calls  the  Father  Sun  to  come  and 
smile  on  the  earth  for  people.  He  is  ever  between 
them,  and  is  their  child." 

"  There,"  said  Tristan,  "  Excellencia,  on  that  one 
circle  of  bull's-hide,  you  have  set  forth,  without  words, 
the  foundation  of  all  religions  of  man,  and  their  kindred 
with  the  sky." 

Sancha  made  the  sign  to  ward  off  evil,  and  looked 
away  from  him. 

"  Have  we  not  enough  of  trials  on  the  way  without 
invitation  to  heretical  thoughts  ?  "  she  asked,  but  he  only 
smiled  at  her,  and  refused  to  be  reproved. 

"  If  you  heard  it  in  a  poem  such  as  comrade  Juanito  is 
given  to  recite  for  your  pleasure,  you  would  deem  it  a 
pretty  thought,"  he  ventured.  "  The  pagans  of  Mexico 
were  only  won  to  faith  in  the  Virgin  and  her  Son  be 
cause  it  fitted  with  their  ancient  belief  of  Mother 
Moon  and  the  Star  which  brings  in  the  Day.  Also 


268     THE    HOUSE    OF   THE    DAWN 

the  star  is  the  child  of  the  great  god,  the  Father  Sun; 
in  no  other  way  can  these  dark  people  be  made  under 
stand  a  king  in  the  heavens.  The  king  of  whom  the 
Christians  tell  is  beyond  their  sight,  but  the  primitive 
sky  gods  they  see  daily  or  nightly." 

"  Still,  they  should  not  use  the  cross  of  Christians," 
she  insisted. 

"  Why  not,  when  they  used  it  as  a  symbol  of  light 
before  Christianity  had  emerged  from  the  mists  of 
the  past?  On  your  shield  it  stands  for  the  bright  son 
who  is  born  of  the  god  and  goddess  of  the  sky.  Who 
knows  but  that  some  such  primitive  symbol  was  not 
foundation  for  the  legend  of  the  cross  which  you  regard 
differently?  " 

"  Juanito,  you  must  not  give  ear  to  such  heretical 
surmising,"  she  declared,  turning  her  attention  to  me. 
"  As  you  came  into  this  wilderness  for  my  sake,  your 
soul  is  my  care,  and  it  is  my  opinion  that  Movi,  as 
well,  needs  some  godly  teaching." 

"  Mayhaps,  if  you  were  inclined  to  priestly  instruction, 
I  also  might  present  myself  as  pupil,"  said  Tristan,  and 
at  that  she  smiled,  though  she  would  not  look  at  him. 

"  Juanito,  tell  your  friend  that  the  simple  faith  I 
own  would  seem  too  slight  a  thing  for  notice  among 
his  vast  collections,"  she  said. 

"  Juanito,  tell  your  cousin  that  if  simplicity  is  the 
thing  desired,  the  symbols  on  the  bull's-hide,  and  their 
visible  gods  of  the  sky,  far  outrank  us.  No  matter  how 
we  disguise  the  same  creed  with  words,  or  weight  it 
down  by  priestly  ceremony,  they  have  the  better  of  us," 
said  he. 

So,  as  between  two  fires,  I  escaped  from  them  both 


IN   THE  PAINTED   DESERT        269 

to  discourse  with  Movi,  who  smiled  her  pleasant  smile 
on  all  of  us  alike,  and  when  she  heard  those  two  near 
to  quarrel,  she  would  look  at  the  shoes  of  Sancha,  and 
then  at  me,  and  laugh.  To  her  mind  there  was  certain 
magic  in  the  boots  of  white  deerskin,  and  to  quarrel  with 
the  man  after  wearing  the  boots  made  by  him  seemed 
to  her  a  useless  thing. 

For  a  day  after  our  minds  had  been  given  enlighten 
ment  regarding  the  symbols  on  the  shields,  Sancha  had 
no  word  for  Tristan,  and  gave  her  undivided  attention 
to  Movi,1  and  strove  to  bring  her  into  the  ways  of 
church,  lest  evil  or  death  might  meet  us  on  the  trail  and 
find  her  unprepared. 

Movi  listened  with  interest  to  all  the  beauties  of 
the  heaven  in  the  sky  for  true  believers,  and  then  told 
her  cheerfully  that  the  Underworld  of  the  Hopi  gods 
was  the  place  of  her  preference,  for  there  the  melons 
were  always  ripe,  and  the  peaches  never  failed,  and 
the  Father  Sun  spent  the  nights  there,  and  all  were 
glad  of  heart. 

The  dismay  of  Sancha  made  Tristan  smile. 

"  She  is  very  honest,  Excellencia,  she  has  not  learned 
—  as  perhaps  her  grandchildren  may  —  to  pretend  in 
fidelity  to  her  pagan  faith.  Their  honesty  is  the  strength 
of  their  clans ;  it  is  a  perilous  thing  to  strive  to  weaken 
that,  even  for  a  new  religion." 

"  But  on  my  own  soul  will  the  blame  lie  if  I  strive 
not,"  said  Sancha,  sore  perplexed,  and  he  smiled  again. 

"  You  too  are  honest,"  he  said.  "  You  want  credit 
for  a  convert,  and  do  not  know  you  will  only  make  her 
unhappy  with  the  old,  and  incapable  of  understanding 
the  new.  I  need  to  have  little  Movi  happy  on  the  trail, 


270      THE    HOUSE    OF    THE    DAWN 

for  on  the  friendship  of  her  clan  may  depend  much  of 
your  own  safeguarding,  so  be  content  with  the  garb  of  a 
missionary,  and  let  go  the  preaching,  or,  as  I  ventured 
to  suggest,  turn  your  discourse  to  me." 

"  I  would  if  I  had  hope,  for  —  you  trouble  me  much," 
she  said  soberly;  and  her  tone  was  so  changed  that  I 
could  believe,  like  Movi,  in  the  magic  of  the  footgear 
made  by  him. 

We  reached  the  great  house  called  Sivanoki,  and 
it  looked  a  palace  in  form  after  the  wattled  huts  of 
the  Pima  people.  Movi  ran  about  it  eagerly,  looking 
for  stray  beads  of  the  ancients,  and  told  us  it  had  been 
built  by  southern  clans  of  her  own  people,  but  that 
dwellings  on  the  open  plain  were  no  longer  safe  for 
reason  that  the  roving  tribes  had  grown  too  strong. 
Other  things  of  the  strange  ruin  she  told  us  —  legends 
and  traditions  heard  in  the  winter  nights  around  the 
fires  of  her  people  —  and  the  massive  walls,  and  its 
four  stories,  surely  gave  reason  to  think  it  built  when 
the  clans  were  indeed  strong  and  sovereigns  in  a  wide 
land.  All  about  it  were  crumbled  walls  and  sand-filled 
ditches  where  the  water  had  once  been  led  from  the 
river,  and  the  sight  of  the  vast  ruined  place  of  Indio 
pueblos  impressed  Sancha  as  words  could  not. 

"  Why,  they  were  indeed  people  civilized  and  of 
industry,"  she  said  in  amaze.  "  The  thickness  of  the 
walls  will  measure  the  height  of  Movi,  and  that  ruined 
tower  —  was  it  for  sentinal  or  priest?  " 

"  I  shall  use  it  for  the  view,  to  learn  if  other  travelers 
are  in  sight,"  said  Tristan,  "  and  if  you,  as  priestess 


He  glanced  at  her  robe,  and  smiled. 


Lz!J  iE?  Ul—j  L™Lf\HJ  IS  Jl_  1  JFr.rLJ  lEi  LTLzLl  LEzJiHJ  LS  ulHJ 
IN  THE  PAINTED   DESERT        271 

"  I  also  will  go  up  if  the  way  is  safe,"  she  said.  "  I 
wish  I  might  know  it  also  was  one  of  the  high  places  of 
light." 

I  was  content  to  stay  below,  and  content  also  if  her 
curiosity  took  her  alone  with  him  as  guard,  for  dear 
though  she  was  to  me,  her  moods  of  discontent  and 
disdain  of  him  made  troublous  work  for  me  in  camp  or 
on  trail. 

With  a  fallen  beam  he  made  a  ladder  up  which  she 
could  walk  with  help  of  a  reata  held  by  him,  and  as  there 
was  no  roving  enemy  in  sight  they  took  time  to  investi 
gate  the  old  tower,  while  Movi  and  I  were  content  to 
pick  garnets  out  of  an  ant  hill  when  her  search  for 
beads  proved  useless. 

And  the  Indian  woman  looked  at  me  and  laughed 
when  the  voices  were  heard  returning  to  earth,  for 
Sancha  was  in  a  pleasant  mood,  and  was  voicing  thanks. 

"  For  without  you  I  should  never  have  found  it," 
she  said,  "  and  for  a  certainty  the  bell  proves  it  a  place 
of  ceremony,  and  the  height  of  it  makes  clear  it  was 
their  substitute  for  a  mountain  in  greetings  to  the 
dawn,  or  study  of  stars." 

"  You  learn  fast,"  he  said,  "  and  I  have  joy  that  it 
was  your  hand  found  their  music  thing  of  prayer.  Many 
have  gone  through  the  rooms  and  never  found  it." 

She  carried  a  little  copper  bell  in  which  a  pebble 
tinkled,  and  it  had  been  hidden  in  the  dust  of  what 
appeared  a  break  or  hole  in  the  wall.  Movi  looked  at 
it  gravely,  and  said  it  was  a  sacred  thing,  and  that  the 
place  in  the  wall  had  been  built  for  it  when  the  house 
was  built  —  it  was  still  the  custom. 

"  That  is  the  second  time  I  have  stood  in  a  House  of 


272      THE    HOUSE    OF    THE    DAWN 

the  Dawn,"  remarked  Sancha,  showing  the  bell  to  me, 
"  and  this  time  the  little  bell  is  as  music  in  the  heart, 
for  I  come  down  happily." 

"  Their  prayer  places  perhaps  keep  a  holiness  of 
spirit  despite  the  pagan  blindness,"  I  agreed ;  "  and  if 
you  can  find  understanding  of  it,  you  will  add  much  of 
happiness  to  your  own  heart  on  the  trail." 

"  I  think  that  is  true,  Juanito,  for  in  each  House  of 
the  Dawn  I  have  learned  a  new  thing." 

Tristan  turned  and  looked  at  her,  then  walked  away 
where  the  horses  were.  I  could  not  think  what  she 
had  learned  on  the  mountain  except  the  thing  giving 
her  anger  at  him,  but  the  trophy  of  the  bell  had  quelled, 
for  the  time,  her  mutiny,  and  I  was  the  last  to  wish  it 
reawakened. 

Few  signs  of  danger  had  crossed  our  path,  and  the 
spirit  of  holiday  trails  did  at  times  come  between  those 
two,  for,  though  all  their  world  looked  tragic,  they  were 
young  in  life  and  heart,  and  the  beauties  of  the  days  and 
nights  were  many.  All  the  wild  things  of  bloom  were 
at  their  best,  and  the  horses  were  faring  better  than 
we  could  have  hoped.  The  water  was  not  good  until 
we  entered  higher  lands  where  the  pines  grew,  but  we 
had  few  dry  camps,  and  we  often  traveled  by  the  stars 
of  morning  to  earn  rest  through  the  hours  of  greatest 
heat. 

It  was  in  these  times  of  dawn  and  dusk  that  we  heard 
from  Movi,  and  sometimes  from  Tristan,  the  Indian 
legends  of  the  stars  at  the  edges  of  day  and  night.  It 
was  the  one  theme  of  which  Sancha  never  tired,  even 
though  she  made  many  words  of  objection  to  the  pagan 
readings  of  them.  And  for  comparison  Tristan  would 


IN  THE  PAINTED   DESERT        273 

bring  in  Greek  or  Arabian  meanings  until  she  con 
fessed  that  the  Indian  had  its  own  charm  when  inter 
preted  by  the  faithful  Movi. 

Thus  journeying,  and  thus  entertained,  we  crossed 
the  wide  lands  in  safety  until  we  reached  the  great 
Desert  of  Wonderful  Color,  where  a  sunrise  glow  made 
all  the  earth  of  rose,  and  a  sunset  would  give  a  sky  of 
green  and  purple  and  pink  amethyst.  Nothing  like 
that  had  come  to  us  in  the  south,  and  the  glory  of  color 
was  like  magic  to  Sancha.  She  spoke  of  jewels,  recall 
ing  all  those  she  had  ever  seen,  and  comparing  them 
with  the  colors  in  the  sky.  In  the  strange  place  where 
our  trail  led  us  past  forest  trees  leveled,  and  turned  to 
stone,  she  looked  at  Tristan  with  wide  eyes  of  question. 
Many  unbelievable  things  had  she  seen,  but  the  petri 
fied  forest  seemed  a  thing  of  enchantment. 

The  heat  was  intense.  Many  times  on  the  trail  the 
heads  of  the  horses  had  to  be  covered  from  the  storms 
of  sand.  Many  times  in  crossing  the  higher  ranges  we 
were  all  but  chilled  into  sickness  and  fever  by  the  tor 
rents  of  cold  rain.  Many  nights  of  exhaustion  the 
Indian  woman  changed  guard  with  us  when  danger 
came  near.  Yet  we  had  fared  safely  withal,  and  reached 
the  pass  of  the  petrified  forest  in  good  condition,  and 
the  eyes  of  Movi  glowed  with  gladness  as  she  recog 
nized  the  wonderful  landmarks. 

"  Homolovi  is  near  —  then  all  good,"  she  said  to 
Tristan,  and  he  nodded  and  looked  the  horses  over 
approvingly  and  then  regarded  Sancha  and  me  much 
as  a  general  who  had  brought  an  army  through  a  hard 
campaign. 

And  hard  and  long  it  had  been,  though  no  pen  could 


'vo'uci'vc>' v^  Vi,1  vr^v^j 
274     THE    HOUSE    OF    THE    DAWN 

make  record  to  tell  the  difficulties  lived  through.  That 
I  have  not  the  courage  to  even  attempt.  After  a  cer 
tain  period  of  exhaustion,  or  thirst,  or  daily  threatened 
dangers  have  been  lived  through,  no  one  day  stands  out 
clearly  from  the  rest.  We  knew  the  names  of  neither 
the  streams  we  forded  nor  the  hills  we  crossed,  and  there 
was  little  to  distinguish  one  day's  journey  from  another. 
Of  all  the  trail  from  the  river  of  the  Gila  where  the 
ancient  ruin  was,  to  the  north  where  the  Painted  Desert 
blazed  its  glories  of  color,  and  its  fantastic  forms  of 
mound  or  mesa,  there  was  nothing  to  record  except  the 
fact  that  the  common  dangers  drew  us  very  close  to 
each  other.  I  think  of  that  little  brown  Movi  today  as 
of  a  loyal,  ever  cheery,  sister,  and  we  emerged  from 
that  long  trail  with  all  the  smaller  vanities  and  preju 
dices  burned  out  of  us.  Tristan  had  not  changed,  for 
to  his  unselfishness  there  was  only  one  duty  —  service 
to  us  all,  but  Sancha  had  grown  more  meek  even  as 
she  grew  more  self-reliant.  Instead  of  argument  or 
resentment  at  new  things  and  pagan  ideas,  she  grew 
thoughtful  of  them  until  at  times  she  fairly  divined  the 
Indian  meanings  before  they  could  be  explained  to  her. 
Thus  almost  without  our  being  aware  of  change  in  her, 
Sancha  was  one  in  the  Brotherhood  of  the  Desert  at 
last.  To  Tristan  she  gave  the  respect  due  a  command 
ing  officer,  and  in  those  later  days  there  was  no  ref 
erence  to  his  unholy  quest  and  her  loyal  intent  to  defeat 
it.  She  talked  to  him  little,  but  watched  him  when  he 
spoke  to  others,  and  as  to  the  best  thing  to  be  done  on 
trail  or  in  camp  she  had  ceased  to  assert  an  opinion. 
It  was  as  if  the  very  wilderness  had  tamed  Sancha! 
Thus  we  came  to  the  village  of  Homolovi  one  eve- 


IN   THE  PAINTED   DESERT        275 

ning  of  red  sunset  when  the  new  moon  and  the  evening 
star  gleamed  in  silver  out  of  the  blaze  of  the  afterglow. 
Tristan  halted,  and  let  me  pass  him  while  he  turned 
to  Sancha. 

"At  last  I  have  brought  you  to  the  first  village  of 
the  people  of  peace,"  he  said,  "  and  we  may  thank  God 
in  our  different  ways  that  it  has  been  in  safety." 

"  The  debt  is  great,"  she  confessed. 

"Yet  not  enough  to  buy  forgiveness?"  he  asked. 

"  Forgiveness  is  only  bought  by  repentance,"  she 
returned,  "  and  I  have  had  no  word  of  that." 

"  True,  neither  have  you,"  he  said. 

Then  the  herald  from  a  tower  of  the  village  wall 
called  loudly  to  the  people,  and  out  on  the  terraces 
swarmed  men  and  women,  and  some  of  them  ran  out 
gladly  to  greet  us  when  a  woman  of  their  own  race  was 
seen  to  be  in  our  company. 

So  great  was  their  glad  amazement  at  safe  return  of 
her  that  they  made  it  like  a  home  coming  for  all.  Their 
best  of  provision  was  put  before  us,  and  around  Sancha, 
the  first  white  woman  they  had  seen,  the  women  and 
children  gathered  in  wondering  admiration.  They  said 
"  Loloml!  "  to  her,  and  of  her,  and  by  that  word  ex 
pressed  all  the  good  and  beautiful  thoughts  they  gave 
her. 

But  a  more  substantial  testimony  of  their  good  will 
was  given  when  one  of  their  priests  led  in  four  fresh 
horses  from  the  range  to  exchange  for  our  own  animals. 
The  burro  ridden  by  Movi  was  especially  desired  by 
them,  and  to  gain  it  they  were  willing  to  either  trade  or 
lend  us  their  best  for  the  trail. 

A  runner  had  been  sent  the  seventy  miles  north  to 


276      THE    HOUSE    OF    THE    DAWN 

tell  clans  of  Walpi  of  the  return  of  Movi  to  her  people, 
and  for  that  space  we  were  to  go  under  friendly  escort 
for  the  reason  that  it  was  the  season  of  their  solemn 
serpent  ceremony  to  the  God  of  Sun  and  Growing 
Things.  At  that  time  the  people  from  the  far  rancherias 
gather  at  Walpi  as  the  faithful  gather  at  Rome,  or  fare 
forth  to  Jerusalem. 

It  may  have  been  the  sense  of  protection  we  felt  in 
company  of  the  friendly  guard  who  ran  beside  our 
horses,  or  it  may  have  been  the  smiling  joy  of  Movi  by 
which  our  days  were  lightened,  but  nothing  on  the 
long  trail  had  wakened  in  our  hearts  the  happiness  of 
new  life  in  a  new  and  enchanted  world,  such  as  came  in 
the  Painted  Desert. 

"  But  it  is  not  a  desert,  it  is  a  garden  so  vast  and  so 
beautiful  that  the  angels  surely  gave  help  in  the 
planning  of  it,"  insisted  Sancha.  "  There  are  as  many 
blossoms  as  stars  in  the  sky,  and  every  shrub  carries 
some  blessing  or  fragrance." 

As  we  journeyed  north  it  had  been  a  growing  wonder 
for  her  to  observe  the  full  sweep  of  stars  around  Polaris, 
but  in  the  great  desert  of  the  peaceful  people,  there  was 
time  to  observe  and  delight  in  them.  On  the  bank  of  a 
river  we  had  to  wait  until  a  sudden  flood  subsided,  and 
that  night  she  learned  new  Indian  names  for  many 
stars  while  Tristan  sat  silent,  smiling  at  her  efforts  to 
pronounce  the  difficult  words. 

Suddenly  she  turned  to  him. 

"  You  know  so  many  things  of  the  Desert,"  she  said, 
"  it  may  be  you  could  tell  me  which  lamp  in  the  sky 
is  the  light  of  Virgo." 

It  was  the  first  mention  she  had  made  to  remind  us 


IN   THE  PAINTED   DESERT        277 

that  the  letters  were  a  living  memory,  and  Tristan 
stared  thoughtfully  at  the  skies  a  moment  ere  he  pointed 
to  Spica  glittering  in  the  south. 

"And  —  Alphard?"  she  added,  but  at  that  question 
he  shook  his  head,  and  smiled. 

"  The  great  serpent  trails  across  the  sky  to  clear  the 
way  for  Virgo,"  he  said ;  "  already  the  star  which  is  his 
heart  is  out  of  sight  over  the  edge  of  the  world  —  the 
rest  of  him  is  under  her  feet,  hidden  in  the  blue  veil." 

"Is  that  what  you  think?"  she  asked,  "or  did  you 
find  it  in  a  book  of  poets'  writing?  " 

"  My  days,  as  you  see,  Excellencia,  give  me  small 
space  for  the  reading  of  poets  even  if  I  could  come  by 
them,"  he  said. 

She  sat  in  silence  a  while  and  then  said,  "  You  are 
a  strange  man,  and  know  strange  things.  I  would  that 
your  heart  was  clear  before  God  of  all  revenges." 

"  Few  of  us  but  have  some  human  fault,"  he  said. 
"  Only  the  angels  in  heaven  can  boast  perfection." 

"  You  are  not  —  not  politic,  or  you  would  include 
ladies,"  she  said ;  but  I,  remembering  her  moods  and 
tempers,  laughed,  and  so  did  she,  so  that  the  spirit  of 
jest  and  comradeship  was  between  us  all  as  never  before. 
She  went  to  sleep  that  night  after  telling  me  that  all 
her  fear  of  the  northern  deserts  was  gone,  and  all  her 
dread  of  the  red  tribes.  These  people  had  a  laughing 
joy  of  life  by  which  content  was  won. 

Then  as  I  agreed  with  her,  and  spread  a  blanket  for 
her  where  Tristan  had  plucked  a  bed  of  sage,  she  added : 

"  You  are  dear  and  good,  Juanito,  and  I  talk  to  you 
as  to  my  conscience,  but  do  you  also  find  this  life  in 
the  open  a  thing  to  live  for?  and  do  you  remember  once 


278     THE    HOUSE    OF    THE    DAWN 

when  we  were  very  little,  and  I  wept  to  follow  the 
strolling  Zingara  who  came  out  of  France?" 

I  remembered,  for  I  had  to  bribe  her  with  all  my  small 
belongings  to  be  good,  and  not  win  me  reprimand  as  a 
careless  guardian. 

"  Yes,  so  it  was,"  she  said  and  laughed,  and  looked  up 
at  the  stars,  "  and  after  all,  I  am  strolling  over  half  the 
world,  as  I  wished,  and  sleep  under  the  open  sky,  and 
find  it  good.  Juanito,  do  you  regret  Mexico?" 

I  thought  of  the  ceaseless  intrigues,  and  endless  cruel 
ties,  and  then  looked  over  the  quiet  and  peace  of  the 
desert  night. 

"  I  have  no  answer,  Sancha.  This  is  to  be  ever 
remembered ;  but  that  life  more  befitted  your  name  and 
state." 

"  So  it  did,"  she  agreed,  "  but  why  should  the  life  of 
a  maid  be  hedged  about  by  weighty  dignities  of  state? 
This  sky  teaches  more  than  I  ever  learned  in  school, 
Juanito,  and  —  if  only  the  letters  were  with  me " 

After  a  little  silence,  she  remembered  again  my  pres 
ence,  and  bade  me  go  and  find  sleep,  and  half  in  mockery 
reminded  me  that  I  was  to  give  no  heed  to  words  of 
hers  when  the  stars  swung  low  as  they  did  over  the 
Painted  Desert,  for  they  wove  enchantment,  and  made 
music  disquieting  to  simple  minded  maids! 

But  if  the  desert  stars  touched  her  with  witchery,  it 
was  only  preparation  for  the  day  when  we  descended  a 
mesa  trail,  and  passed  fields  of  growing  corn,  to  see  a 
gray  mesa  beyond  growing  into  something  more  than 
a  mesa.  So  suddenly  did  the  change  come  to  us  that 
Sancha  checked  her  horse  with  a  little  cry  of  wonder 
and  put  out  her  hand, 


' 

IN  THE  PAINTED   DESERT        279 

It  fell  on  the  arm  of  Tristan,  who  was  watching  for 
the  moment  she  would  realize  it  was  an  eagle's  nest  of 
a  dwelling-place  rising  out  of  the  level,  and  terraced, 
roof  above  roof,  against  the  sky. 

"  It  is  a  part  of  the  desert  enchantment,"  she  said, 
"for  how  could  savages  build  like  that?" 

"  As  I  told  you,  Excellencia,  these  people  are  not  of 
savage  tribes ;  I  have  hoped  that  you  might  know  it 
some  day.  They  are  the  people  of  a  great  mystery ;  sur 
rounded  on  all  sides  by  warlike  enemies,  they  yet  hold 
their  fortresses  and  their  independence." 

"And  they  are  —  your  adopted  people?"  she  asked. 

"  Rather  they  have  been  courteous,  and  I  am  grate 
ful,"  he  answered.  "  More  grateful  now  than  I  ever 
dreamed  I  might  be." 

"Because  of  me?"  she  asked,  and  he  nodded  his 
head. 

"  Their  island  of  rock  above  the  sand  dunes  would  be 
a  haven  of  refuge,  if  refuge  be  needed." 

"  Have  we  not  journeyed  through  all  the  lands  where 
enemies  might  wait  for  us?  "  she  questioned,  but  to  my 
surprise  he  had  no  ready  reply.  He  was  staring 
upward,  where  at  the  edge  of  the  cliff  a  dark  robed  fig 
ure  stood  beside  the  watching,  half-nude  figures  of  the 
boys  and  young  men. 

It  was  amazing  to  me  to  see  our  companions  from 
Homolovi  run  up  those  heights  like  squirrels  with  no 
sign  of  weariness  from  the  desert  trail.  The  training 
of  their  boys  from  earliest  youth  is  to  fit  them  for 
speed.  No  horse  can  keep  pace  with  them  on  a  long 
journey. 

But  we  who  rode  left  the  steep  path  to  them  while 


280      THE    HOUSE    OF    THE    DAWN 

we  wound  between  the  sand  dunes,  and  up  the  rock 
trail  where  the  harvests  of  the  fields  were  carried.  So 
gradual  was  the  rise,  with  the  rock  wall  on  one  side, 
and  the  sand  dunes  and  clusters  of  peach  trees  below, 
that  we  did  not  know  the  height  we  had  reached  until 
suddenly  we  emerged  from  the  shadow  of  walls,  and 
I  caught  my  breath,  in  amaze  as  we  stood  in  one  of 
the  wonder  paths  of  the  world. 

There  is  no  pen  can  give  to  another  the  wonder  of 
that  place  of  the  meeting  of  the  trails  at  the  rock  shrine 
of  Walpi  in  Tusayan.  There  are  times  when  a  sun 
setting  will  wrap  it  in  flame,  and  a  dawn  will  lift  it  into 
a  mysterious  world  apart  from  all  one  could  dream.  As 
the  red  sun  set  in  the  west  there  were  strange  reflected 
rays  shooting  upward  from  the  horizon  in  the  east,  and 
between  them  we  stood  on  a  high  trail,  where,  on  either 
side,  the  cliffs  dropped  away,  leaving  great  reaches 
of  the  Desert  below,  in  changing  colors  and  shadows  so 
full  of  beauty  that  tears  were  in  the  eyes  of  Sancha, 
and  her  hands  clasped  over  her  breast  at  the  wonder  and 
beauty  of  it  all. 

"  It  is  a  very  benediction,"  she  whispered.  "  Juanito, 
it  is  as  if  we  stood  on  a  throne  of  God,  the  Father.  Yet 
is  it  the  earth,  and  the  haven  of  a  strange  people,"  then 
she  turned  to  Tristan. 

"  This  justifies  you  in  much,  senor,"  she  said.  "  To 
starve  or  freeze,  or  to  burn  on  desert  trail,  is  slight 
enough  payment  for  this  you  have  brought  us  to.  It 
is  the  very  gateway  of  a  Place  of  the  Dawn.  Are  the 
others  but  lesser  copies?  " 

He  looked  at  her,  quickly  smiling. 

"  How  soon  you  learn  when  you  let  your  thought 

•• 


IN   THE  PAINTED   DESERT 

have  freedom,"  he  said.  "  Yes,  all  the  artificial  hills 
of  sanctuary  are  in  memory  of  a  greater  one.  The  high 
places  of  prayer  are  not  alone  in  sacred  books." 

A  line  of  men  were  coming  down  with  ceremonial 
greeting  and  welcome,  and  Movi  slipped  from  her  horse 
and  ran  eagerly  to  meet  them,  for  her  brother  and  father 
were  with  them,  and  they  wept  in  gladness  at  her 
return. 

Then  they  crowded  about  Tristan,  with  every  sign 
of  fondness  and  gratitude,  and  when  he  spoke  of  Sancha, 
and  pointed  to  the  beads  of  the  man  they  had  honored, 
the  father  of  Movi  breathed  on  her  hand,  and  led  the 
horse  of  Sancha  proudly  up  the  trail  to  the  terraced 
dwellings,  while  we  all  followed. 

At  the  top  of  the  trail  waited  the  man  in  the  robe; 
it  was  a  priest  from  a  near-by  settlement,  Oriabe,  and 
his  name  was  Padre  Juan  de  Vallada.  At  first  he  had 
thought  it  two  brother  priests  who  had  arrived,  and  his 
amaze  was  great  when  he  learned  of  the  dangers  we 
had  passed  in  the  country  of  the  Haquis,  and  the  strange 
reason  for  a  lady  of  De  Llorente  y  Rivera  wearing  the 
robe  of  a  priestly  order. 

He  had  been  for  a  year  in  the  province  of  Tusayan, 
with  another  priest  to  share  the  work,  and  all  the 
news  of  the  world  was  dear  to  him.  Letters  came  from 
Santa  Fe  and  from  a  priest  at  Acoma.  The  youths  of 
barbaric  clans  were  ever  eager  to  serve  as  couriers 
between  the  tribes,  and  thus  the  priests  kept  in  touch 
with  brethren;  so  also  the  young  men  learned  the 
world.  Padre  de  Vallada  was  at  Walpi  to  frown  on  the 
iniquity  of  their  serpent  worship,  for  which  his  brown 
charges  were  eager  in  the  August  moon.  He  was  a 


282      THE    HOUSE    OF    THE    DAWN 

garrulous  man,  eager  to  hear  words  of  good  Spanish 
again,  and  we  learned  much  as  we  crossed  the  stone 
floor  of  that  high  cliff,  and  observed  the  fortress-like 
arrangement  of  all  things.  In  that  place  a  few  men 
could  hold  at  bay  a  thousand. 

Because  these  were  the  days  when  the  pagan  priests 
fasted  in  the  sanctuary,  none  of  us  could  see  the  leading 
men  of  the  snake  order.  Movi  could  not  see  even  her 
own  grandfather  for  the  reason  that  no  priest  in  com 
munion  with  the  gods  may  look  upon  a  woman.  It 
seemed  that  Tristan  might  enter  the  sanctuary  because 
he  had  been  taken  into  the  order,  but  he  could  discuss 
no  worldly  matter  there. 

Padre  de  Vallada  looked  at  him  curiously  when  the 
message  of  invitation  came  from  the  priests  of  the 
snakes. 

"  Do  you  wear  the  sanctified  robe  of  church  into  dens 
of  iniquity  where  the  symbol  of  all  evil  is  worshiped?  " 
he  asked. 

"  Nay,  holy  father,"  answered  Tristan.  "  You  have 
been  ill-informed.  It  is  not  the  symbol  of  evil  to  them, 
rather  of  immortality,  since  it  comes  new  out  of  its  old 
cover  each  year.  But  in  my  visit  to  the  £r'va  I  shall  wear 
no  robe." 

"You  have  no  fear?" 

"  I  have  gone  in  once  before,  and  it  may  be  I  have 
made  this  day's  journey  on  a  lucky  day,"  said  Tristan. 
"  Their  minds  will  tell  them  I  have  crossed  all  lands  to 
keep  the  fast  here  where  they  made  me  a  brother." 

"  At  Santa  Fe  each  priest  is  ordered  to  serve  at  mass 
before  each  harmless  pagan  ceremony,  but  that  the 
hideous  ceremony  of  the  snakes  be  especially  forbid- 


IN  THE  PAINTED   DESERT        283 

den,"  stated  Padre  de  Vallada  pointedly,  "  and  it  seems 
a  curious  matter  that  a  Christian  should  join  in  their 
horrors." 

"  They  have  made  me  brother,  and  opened  the  way 
for  me  two  summers  gone,"  returned  Tristan.  "  All 
was  done  with  the  knowledge  and  blessing  of  Fray 
Fernando.  In  that  way  he  learned  they  do  no  evil; 
it  was  the  best  way  in  which  to  learn.  Also  it  has 
won  blessings  for  me  with  southern  tribes,  for  it  is  the 
most  famous  order  of  all  these  nations." 

"  Yet  opposed  to  the  church?  "  insisted  the  priest,  but 
Tristan  told  him  it  was  opposed  to  no  order  of  any 
religion;  all  their  thought  was  centered  on  prayers  for 
strength  to  the  Spirit  of  the  Growing  Things. 

Sancha  listened  in  silence  to  their  words,  yet  it  was 
plain  to  see  her  distress  at  any  argument  with  the  priest, 
for  the  sight  of  him  had  been  a  great  comfort  to  her 
own  mind,  though  I  liked  little  enough  the  suspicious 
regard  he  gave  to  all  of  us. 

In  a  house  of  Movi's  clan,  a  room  was  given  to  Sancha 
—  a  room  of  white  walls,  and  white  floor,  a  roll  of 
blankets,  and  great  vase  of  water.  Movi  and  one  of  her 
small  sisters  slept  by  the  door,  and  my  chosen  place 
was  on  the  terraced  roof  beside  her  portal.  Weary 
though  we  were,  all  were  too  excited  for  sleep.  The 
return  of  Movi,  stolen,  and  given  up  for  lost,  was  a 
wonderful  thing  to  her  people,  and  to  be  brought  back 
by  Ivava  out  of  the  land  of  an  enemy  was  of  vast  im 
portance.  He  had  proven  himself  truly  a  brother  to  the 
clans  of  Walpi,  and  on  the  word  of  Movi  they  accepted 
Sancha  as  a  person  greatly  exalted,  since  Ivava  looked 
first  of  all  to  her  comfort. 


284     THE    HOUSE    OF    THE    DAWN 

After  a  supper  of  green  corn  and  the  flesh  of  deer, 
Tristan,  who  was  now  called  Ivava,  left  us  on  the  ter 
race  in  the  purple  twilight. 

"  I  would  that  Fray  de  Lombarde  had  made  the  return 
from  Awatobi,"  mused  Padre  de  Vallada  looking  after 
him.  "  This  to  me  is  a  strange  thing.  I  have  seen  no 
white  men  to  whom  their  sanctuaries  are  open,  and  it 
has  a  strange  look.  What  Fray  Fernando  did  he 
mean?  " 

"  One  very  holy,  and  no  longer  alive,"  I  told  him, 
and  in  gossip  of  other  matters  he  seemed  to  forget 
Tristan.  He  told  me  conversions  were  slow,  and  he 
thought  it  a  serious  matter  that  only  half-breeds  should 
be  punished  for  apostasy,  since  it  was  the  old  men,  of 
pure  Indio  blood,  who  were  most  rigid  in  evil  prac 
tices,  and  little  could  be  done  for  converts,  even  by  the 
Inquisition,  until  the  old  men  had  died.  One  most 
troublous  warrior-priest  named  Pope  had  been  a  thorn 
in  the  flesh  of  the  godly  these  several  years,  and  had 
evil  power  over  many  pueblos  to  the  east. 

From  that  he  told  of  the  Indians  in  the  turquoise 
mines,  and  their  troublesome  dislike  of  work  under 
ground,  for  which  reason  the  unruly  converts  were  en 
slaved  to  that  task;  so,  while  Sancha  was  listening 
with  open  ears,  my  thoughts  drifted  far,  and  my  mind 
was  not  so  easy  as  I  could  wish  over  that  matter  of 
the  sanctuary  and  the  snakes  —  and  our  one  friend 
down  there  in  brotherly  converse! 

And  then  I  was  brought  sharply  back  to  Sancha,  who 
said,  "  But  that  was  even  more  strange  than  to  fare 
safely  through  the  Desert.  Two  white  maids  in  an 
open  boat  saved  by  Indians  —  do  you  hear,  Juanito?  " 


IN   THE  PAINTED   DESERT        285 

I  had  not,  and  I  asked  what  questions  I  might.  Fray 
de  Lombarde  had  heard  it  in  Santa  Fe,  and  the  word 
came  from  the  great  river  Miche  Sepi  to  the  east  where 
the  French  were ;  a  half-French  trader  told  of  two  sis 
ters  lost  on  the  sea  in  the  south,  and  guarded  safely  by 
Indians  to  a  hunting  camp  of  the  French.  The  sight 
of  the  maids  fitted  in  with  some  legend  of  white-water 
spirits  of  that  coast  tribe,  so  they  were  given  food  and 
raiment,  and  they  arrived  at  the  French  and  Indian 
camp,  decked  in  all  feather  fineries,  but  near  to  death 
for  the  proper  food  of  white  people. 

No,  Padre  de  Vallada  knew  nothing  except  there  had 
been  others,  and  all  died  but  the  two  sisters;  perhaps 
a  ship  had  gone  down,  he  did  not  know.  But  the  sis 
ters  were  started  north  along  the  great  river  to  the 
French  possessions  where  they  would  be  welcome  to 
the  colonists,  for  white  maids  were  rare  in  the  wilder 
ness.  Padre  de  Vallada  only  told  of  this  matter  in 
evidence  of  the  power  of  Indian  superstition,  for  the 
maids  were  fair  and  were  regarded  as  twin  gods  or 
goddesses  of  the  water,  and  thus  were  saved. 

I  had  joy  to  hear  this,  for  well  I  knew  that  the  death 
of  the  Lispano  family  was  a  heavy  cloud  to  Tristan, 
and  if  the  daughters  had  thus  escaped,  perhaps  the 
others  might,  and  the  sacrifice  of  Don  Fernando  had 
not  been  all  in  vain.  There  was  in  my  mind  no  doubt 
left  of  their  identity  when  he  spoke  of  their  fairness, 
and  again  I  could  see  that  far-away,  stone-paved  street 
of  Mexico,  and  the  proud  riding  of  Marco  with  the 
young  girl  tied  with  his  reata,  and  the  sweet  bell  voice 
of  Dona  Perfecta  who  spoke  her  wonder  that  a  Jewess 
should  be  so  fair! 


286      THE    HOUSE    OF    THE    DAWN 

And  well  content  with  the  news  of  the  evening,  I 
bade  the  priest  good  night,  and  rolled  myself  in  my 
blanket  to  sleep  on  the  terrace. 

The  moon  was  gone,  and  the  still  night  was  a-glitter 
with  stars,  when  I  wakened  and  heard  the  voice  of 
Tristan. 

"  The  trail  is  not  ended,  Excellencia,"  he  said,  "  and 
it  is  the  time  for  rest  and  sleep." 

"  It  is  a  night  for  wonder  at  the  very  beauty  of  earth," 
she  answered.  "  I  have  been  watching  the  stars  and  the 
land  below  ever  since  the  priest  went  away.  He 
looked  after  you  as  if  in  no  good  mood,  Senor  Ivava.  Is 
it  true  there  is  no  evil  in  these  pagan  chapels?  " 

"  No  evil  is  meant  there,  that  is  all  I  can  tell,  Excel 
lencia,"  he  made  answer ;  "  but  the  order  is  secret  even 
from  their  own  people,  and  the  church  frowns  on 
secrecies.  Almost  a  hundred  years  of  white  priesthood 
here  has  won  no  snake  priest  as  convert  for  confession." 

"  But  you  —  is  there  no  danger  for  you?  I  could  not 
sleep  —  the  thought  of  all  those  serpents !  " 

"  Vex  not  your  mind,  we  have  now  crossed  the  deserts 
of  danger.  You  have  reached  the  priests  of  your  own 
people,  and  even  though  I  halt  by  the  way  you  can  find 
many  guides  to  Santa  Fe,  Excellencia." 

"  Do  not  call  me  that  —  it  spoils  the  night,"  she  said. 

"  Then  must  I  keep  silence  when  you  speak  to  me?  " 
he  asked,  and  at  that  she  spoke  impatiently. 

"  You  are  so  proud,  Senor  Ivava  —  also  you  are  hard. 
I  was  a  child  when  I  began  this  journey,  and  I  followed 
the  dream  of  a  child.  That  life  slipped  from  me  in 
the  Desert  and  I  am  different.  I  was  seated  here  in 
this  place  of  wonder  thinking  of  that.  Yes,  you  are 


IN  THE  PAINTED   DESERT       287 

hard.  You  use  words  to  exalt  me,  as  if  in  mockery  of 
the  unclad  beggar  you  found  on  the  way.  Also  my  debt 
is  so  heavy  I  cannot  sleep." 

There  was  silence  after  that,  and  I  heard  him  walk 
across  the  roof  and  back. 

"  I  may  perhaps  then  call  you  Dona  Sancha  without 
offense?"  he  said.  "But  you  are  a  great  lady  in  your 
own  land,  while  I  am  only  a  landless  brother  of  desert 
tribes.  Your  kinsmen  could  think  I  presumed  if  I  forget 
that  difference  because  of  the  chance  disaster  to  you  on 
the  trail." 

"  My  kinsmen !  "  she  retorted,  "  the  one  nearest  me  in 
blood,  Juan,  asleep  there,  is  devoted  to  every  thought  of 
you.  Nothing  you  could  do  or  say  would  seem  but  right 
to  him.  He  tells  me  often  enough  you  are  above  us 
both,  and  for  this,  perhaps,  I  was  jealous.  I  was  ever 
first  with  him  until  you  crossed  our  path  and  made 
unwelcome  rules." 

"  First  you  always  will  be,  Dona  Sancha,"  he  answered 
gently,  "  but  Juan  can  scarce  speak  for  your  illustrious 
kinsmen  of  Spain,  and,  when  he  has  double  his  years, 
he  also  may  not  look  back  on  our  desert  trail  through 
rosy  glasses.  The  days  of  this  summer  are  now  but  a 
boy's  romance  with  him.  He  calls  Movi  of  the  Desert 
'  sister,'  and  he  is  enchanted  with  the  changes  of  the 
wilderness  which  is  yet  a  garden." 

"Are  we  not  all?"  she  asked.  "If  it  were  not  so, 
would  I  be  sleepless  here  on  this  terrace  lest  the  ser 
pents  do  harm  to  you?  You  are  enemy  to  the  man 
I  will  not  name  to  you ;  an  unjust  thought  in  your  heart 
is  against  him,  and  I  ought  not  to  have  care  what 
chanced  you  down  there  in  the  serpent  den  with  your 


288     THE    HOUSE    OF   THE    DAWN 

red  brothers!  Yet  here  am  I,  awake  under  the  stars, 
and  the  peace  of  the  life,  and  the  people  here  give  me 
strange  thoughts.  I  wonder  why  peoples  and  nations 
should  strive  for  power  in  the  world,  for  gold,  for  the 
fame  of  a  day?  Here  there  is  no  strife  of  that  kind  — 
and  no  anger.  Is  it  indeed  true  these  people  assert 
that  wrath  causes  a  poison  in  the  blood  to  drive  away 
the  spirits  of  good?  It  is  a  strange  thought,  yet  the 
curious  thing  is  that  no  thought,  even  the  wildest, 
seems  strange  here!  The  stars  come  so  close  they 
lift  the  spirit  and  make  our  little  plans  of  life  out  in 
the  world  seem  small.  All  men  are  equal  together  here, 
and  the  women  aid  in  the  governing  and  claim  the  chil 
dren,  and  sit  in  council  of  the  clans.  That  would  be  a 
strange  thought  in  another  place,  for  our  people  are 
ruled  by  kings  or  queens,  and  are  always  in  strife.  But 
here  they  have  peace  without  a  ruler,  and  nothing  seems 
strange  or  wrong  —  not  even  this,  senor,"  and  I  knew 
she  smiled  —  "  that  I  sit  on  a  house  roof  in  the  night 
time  without  a  duenna,  and  talk  alone  with  a  man  who 
tells  me  he  is  only  a  landless  brother  of  desert  poeple." 

"  You  are  kind  of  heart,  Dona  Sancha,"  he  said,  "  but 
it  is  no  jest  that  I  am  as  I  say.  Whatever  of  ill  you, 
in  the  future,  may  be  brought  to  think,  none  shall  add 
that  I  made  pretense  of  more  than  I  am." 

"How  could  you?"  she  asked  with  impatient  force; 
"  are  you  not  stronger  here  than  the  very  priests  of 
Holy  Church?" 

"  That  is  an  ill  power  to  covet  in  any  land,"  he  said. 
"  Do  you  not  know  it  alone  might  shut  me  out  from 
doors  opening  wide  to  you?" 

"  You  are  his  enemy,  therefore  you  are  mine,"  she 


IN  THE  PAINTED   DESERT       289 

answered,  "  yet  you  have  been  salvation  to  me  in  the 
wilderness.  No  Llorente  y  Rivera  could  be  ignoble 
enough  to  forget  a  favor  because  of  hatred,  Kahn  Alca- 
traz,  and  the  doors  where  I  go  will  be  open  to  you  when 
you  speak." 

"  I  shall  not  hold  you  to  that,  or  ever  remind  you  of 
the  words,  but  I  will  never  forget  them,"  he  said. 
"  Tomorrow  you  will  remember  it  was  the  enchantment 
of  desert  stars  by  which  you  were  made  gracious.  Good 
sleep  to  you,  Dona  Sancha." 

Then  he  went  down  over  the  terraced  roofs,  and  she 
stood  looking  after  him,  and  I  went  asleep  again  with 
the  picture  of  her,  wrapped  in  the  blue  light  of  the 
stars,  high  on  the  upper  terrace  against  the  sky. 


CHAPTER    XVII 
AMONG  THE  SERPENT  PEOPLE 

I   DO  not  think  either  of  them  had  the  sleep  they 
needed  that  night,  for  when  I  wakened,  she  was 
below  me  on  the  eastward  edge  of  the  mesa,  where 
a  cool  wind  of  the  early  morning  carried  to  her  the 
odor  of  wide  lands  of  sage  brush.    Already  she  had  gone 
for  prayer  to  the  house  used  as  a  chapel  by  Padre  de 
Vallada,  and  then,  leaving  him  with  his  scattered  flock, 
more   curious   than   devout,   she   had   found   her   way 
through  an  arcade  past  a  strange,  natural  stone  monu 
ment  in  the  plaza,  and  out  to  the  rim  of  the  great  rock. 
Below  in  the  Desert  patches  of  mist  yet  lay  in  the 
shadow  of  far  blue  mesas. 

I  also  went  down  the  ladder  for  prayer,  and  before  I 
was  out  again,  Tristan  had  joined  her.  The  evening 
before  she  had  given  him  the  copper  bell  as  gift  to  the 
head  of  Movi's  clan.  To  her  it  seemed  a  trifling  thing 
to  give  in  gratitude  for  the  clean  dwelling,  and  cour 
teous  greetings,  yet  it  meant  much  to  the  men  in  the 
snake  kiva.  It  was  as  a  voice  from  their  ancestors  of 
the  ancient  days,  and  their  hearts  told  them  that  the 
gods  had  sent  the  bell  at  this  time,  and  in  this  way,  as 
a  sign  that  the  woman  who  brought  it  must  be  sacred 
to  the  clan  as  Ivava  was  sacred. 

I  joined  them  as  he  was  telling  her  this,  at  which 

290 


AMONG    SERPENT    PEOPLE       291 

she  was  gay.  It  seemed  to  her  a  great  jest  that  the 
crude  copper  bell  as  a  gift  would  lift  her  into  import 
ance  with  a  strong  tribe. 

But  Tristan  did  not  laugh  over  it,  and  asked  her  not 
to  treat  it  lightly. 

"  Also  —  if  they  bring  you  today  a  garb  such  as  their 
maidens  wear,  I  beg  that  you  accept  it,"  he  said  ear 
nestly.  "  It  will  be  meant  in  great  kindness,  and  — 
there  may  be  need  of  their  kindnesses." 

"  Shall  I  also  see  her  with  her  hair  in  whorls  of  the 
squash  blossom?"  I  asked,  and  had  joy  at  the  picture. 
After  all  her  disdain  of  him,  and  his  pagan  friends,  it 
would  be  a  thing  for  laughter  to  see  her  in  proper  cere 
monial  garb  of  a  desert  tribe. 

"  With  all  my  heart  I  hope  I  see  you  both  in  the  dress 
of  these  clans  if  the  thing  is  to  happen  which  I  fear 
may  happen  here,"  he  said.  "  I  may  not  leave  until 
after  the  ceremony  of  the  serpents  —  and  that  is  at  set 
of  sun  today,  also  I  may  not  again  have  chance  to  speak 
with  you  both,  but  we  must  take  the  trail  at  the  earliest 
hour  tomorrow.  Get  what  rest  you  can  —  betray  no 
need  of  haste  —  leave  that  to  me !  But  I  do  ask  that  you 
accept  every  kindly  offer  or  gift,  for  it  is  a  strange  time 
we  have  come  to  this  place,  and  they  wish  you  well." 

Sancha  spoke  of  Padre  de  Vallada,  and  ventured  to 
think  he  would  scarce  approve  even  the  gift  of  the  bell, 
if  he  learned  they  thought  it  a  sign  from  their  ancient 
gods,  but  Tristan  was  suddenly  careful. 

"  It  is  better  that  you  tell  nothing  to  Padre  de  Vallada 
of  that,  or  any  other  thing  these  people  would  use  as  a 
bond  of  friendship,"  he  said.  "  I  may  not  say  more,  and 
this  only  here  where  no  one  listens.  Things  have 


292      THE    HOUSE    OF    THE    DAWN 

changed  since  I  was  in  this  place  before,  and  Padre 
Vallada  is  not  welcome  for  their  days  of  prayer.  They 
do  not  tell  me  this,  I  only  read  it  in  many  actions.  You, 
Juanito,  keep  close  as  may  be  to  Movi  or  Dona  Sancha 
when  I  am  out  of  sight ;  you  bestowed  no  sacred  bell. 

"  That  is  sadly  true,"  I  agreed  —  "I  could  not  even 
conjure  a  likeness  to  a  pagan  divinity  as  did  stray  maids 
in  the  boat  on  the  south  coast." 

I  looked  at  him  as  I  said  it,  and  he  frowned  at  me, 
puzzled  and  incredulous. 

"  When  was  this?  "  he  asked. 

"  Not  so  long  ago  as  time  flies  in  the  Desert,"  said 
Sancha,  "  Padre  de  Vallada  told  it  to  show  how  easily 
the  superstitions  of  the  red  people  were  influenced.  I 
wished  he  could  have  told  us  more  of  the  sisters  than 
that  they  were  fair,  and  were  taken  north  at  their  desire 
to  some  French  camp  of  explorers." 

"  Also  they  were  taken  in  safety  up  the  great  river 
to  lakes  of  the  north  where  French  settlements  are 
made,"  I  added.  "  It  is  a  great  journey  by  water,  but 
it  would  lead  them  to  safety,  and  that  is  good  to  know." 

"  It  is,  in  truth,  good  to  know,"  he  said,  and  drew  a 
great  breath  as  he  turned  away  his  head.  "  We  will 
give  thanks  to  God,  who  found  the  way  for  them." 

He  walked  back  to  the  plaza  without  looking  at  us 
again.  I  knew  it  was  that  Sancha  might  not  see  the 
tears  in  his  eyes,  but  she  did  not  understand. 

"  It  is  curious,"  she  remarked,  "  that  in  the  affairs  of 
white  people  his  interests  are  so  small." 

"  That  you  should  say  it,  Sancha ! "  I  mocked,  and 
pushed  the  sleeve  up  from  her  round  arm.  "  Despite  the 
desert  tan,  you  yet  show  enough  of  white  to  be  given 


AMONG    SERPENT    PEOPLE       293 

audience  in  civilized  courts,  yet  I  see  no  lack  of  his  inter 
est  in  you." 

She  twitched  the  sleeve  loose  from  me,  and  flushed 
rose  red  under  all  the  tan,  yet  she  smiled  where  a  month 
before  she  would  have  withered  me  with  her  disdain. 

"  Well,  the  saving  of  two  women  through  a  super 
stition  of  the  tribes  is  to  me  a  marvel,"  she  persisted, 
"  yet  he  asked  but  when  it  chanced,  and  then  hastened 
away  to  his  friends  of  the  serpents  —  does  that  show 
interest?  " 

"  He  made  clear  that  affairs  new  and  of  import  were 
on  his  mind,"  I  urged. 

"  Yes,  and  treats  us  as  children  who  are  not  trusted 
with  affairs  of  men !  "  she  made  retort.  "  But  we  care 
little,  do  we,  Juanito?  He  can  go  to  his  serpent  sanc 
tuaries,  and  leave  us  to  go  adventuring." 

"  We  will  first  go  adventuring  to  break  our  fast,"  I 
suggested.  "  I  think  we  are  late  as  it  is,  for  Movi  was 
busy  with  the  fire  as  I  came  down." 

We  walked  back,  watching  from  the  mesa  the  men 
far  down  in  the  fields  of  maize  and  melon  vines  —  they 
looked  like  mice  for  size  —  and  we  learned  that  the 
dawn  always  found  the  workers  there,  and  when  the 
sun  stood  above,  they  were  back  at  their  homes,  resting 
in  a  change  of  work  such  as  fashioning  arrows,  beads  of 
stone,  or  weaving  robes  of  rabbit  skin  for  winter.  The 
village  was  a  beehive  where  each  worker  did  his  share. 
No  one  seemed  idle,  and  no  one  hurried  unless  it  be  in 
the  ceremonial  races  with  each  other,  or  with  the  sun. 

So  quiet  were  they  all  in  their  waking,  and  going,  that 
we  did  not  know  the  young  men,  and  even  small  boys, 
had  gone  at  dawn  to  plant  prayer  plumes  at  a  spring  far 


294      THE    HOUSE    OF    THE    DAWN 

to  the  west,  and  from  there  made  a  race  with  the  sun 
to  reach  the  mesa  as  it  came  out  of  the  east. 

From  the  terraced  roof  we  saw  the  last  of  them  come 
up  the  steeps  where  the  mothers  watched  in  pride  the 
first  run  of  the  younger  ones,  and  received  them,  breath 
less  and  exhausted,  in  their  arms. 

Very  gay  they  were  in  eagle  plumes  and  paintings  of 
white  on  their  brown  skin,  and  all  the  brightness  of 
turquoise  beads  and  red  shell  from  the  far  sea.  The 
old  runners  disappeared  at  once  in  one  of  their  £z'vas, 
or  sanctuaries,  but  the  little  fellows  paraded  all  the  day 
with  a  pride  in  their  nude  importance. 

Movi  had  our  breakfast  waiting,  and  was  almost  as 
much  of  interest  to  the  women  of  the  clans  as  was 
Sancha.  Visitors  were  gathering  for  the  snake  cere 
mony  from  the  towns  on  other  mesas,  and  already  were 
climbing  ladder  and  terraced  roof  to  see  the  only  Hopi 
woman  who  had  journeyed  so  far  and  come  again  back 
to  her  people. 

Her  relatives  were  bringing  large  reed  platters  heaped 
with  the  colored  feast  bread,  red  and  yellow  and  blue, 
that  she  might  give  food  to  all  in  gratitude,  and  in  mem 
ory  of  the  long  time  when  food  had  been  given  her  by 
strange  tribes. 

Thus,  without  making  question,  we  saw  much  of 
tribal  things  curious  and  often  pleasing,  and  to  Sancha 
one  of  the  most  interesting  was  a  strange  and  continu 
ous  song  in  a  woman's  voice  drifting  out  from  one  of 
the  many  houses.  It  sounded  like  a  high  chant  of 
supreme  content. 

Movi  laughed  when  Sancha  asked  of  it. 

"  Some   day  you   sing   that  song  —  maybe   so,"   she 


AMONG  SERPENT  PEOPLE   295 

said.  "  That  song  is  the  grinding  song  for  wedding 
meal  —  I  let  you  see." 

She  led  us  over  roofs  and  down  a  ladder  to  a  room 
where  a  woman  was  coiling  the  whorls  for  the  head 
dress  of  a  little  maid,  and  a  woven  blanket  screened  a 
corner  where  the  song  was. 

Great  meal  jars  stood  in  a  row  against  the  wall,  and 
in  an  alcove  were  ears  of  corn  in  even  layers  piled  like 
fagots  from  floor  to  ceiling. 

The  floor  was  freshly  whitened,  and  Movi  had  pleas 
ure  in  our  approval  of  the  orderly  arrangement  of  all 
things,  for  the  people  were  of  her  clan,  and  she  drew 
back  the  screening  blanket  with  a  teasing  laugh  at  the 
girl  behind  it.  The  girl  was  on  her  knees  at  a  grinding 
stone,  and  the  fresh  meal  was  piled  beside  her  in  a  shal 
low  plaque.  Only  an  instant  the  curtain  was  held  back 
and  then  let  fall  in  mock  fear,  as  if  the  shy  black  eyes 
of  the  maid  held  a  threat. 

"  It  is  so,"  she  said  sagely.  "  When  the  work  is  to 
do  first,  and  the  meal  to  grind,  and  prayer  songs  to  sing, 
it  tells  the  woman  if  she  wants  the  man  —  for  long  days 
is  the  meal  grinding." 

"  That  is  not  so  bad,"  I  agreed,  "  it  does  away  with 
any  decision  of  haste.  Thus  a  bride  serves  an  appren 
ticeship,  and  it  is  a  good  thought." 

"  That  is  as  may  be,"  retorted  Sancha,  "  but  what  is 
the  task  for  the  man?  " 

"  He  works  fields  for  her  father,  or  gives  robes,  or 
some  way  he  is  friend." 

"  That  is  not  so  bad,"  mocked  Sancha  — "  it  does 
away  with  all  the  drones.  When  I  wed,  the  man  must 
also  serve  apprenticeship !  " 


296      THE    HOUSE    OF    THE    DAWN 

Of  all  this  we  made  jests,  and  were  about  to  go  up 
the  ladder,  when  the  Hopi  woman  whose  house  it  was, 
touched  the  arm  of  Sancha,  and  held  out  to  her  a  long 
woven  girdle  —  narrow  and  of  yellow  and  black.  Their 
sheep  were  few,  brought  from  the  far  eastern  pueblos 
where  the  Castilians  were,  and  I  knew  the  girdle  was 
precious. 

"  We  cannot  buy  —  we  are  but  poor  strangers  among 
you,"  I  said  to  Movi,  but  the  woman  smiled  and  looked 
only  at  Sancha,  saying  something  in  a  low,  pleasant 
tone. 

"  She  says  it  is  not  to  trade  —  it  is  the  first  time  you 
are  in  her  house,  and  she,  Lenmana,  makes  you  the 
gift.  Also,  because  you  are  friend,  she  makes  the  wash 
for  your  hair  in  this  house " 

"Is  it  —  the  custom?"  asked  Sancha,  doubtful,  yet 
with  interest.  "  True  enough  the  washing  is  needed. 
Think  you  I  had  best  ask  the  padre?" 

"  He  would  say  no,  and  perhaps  lose  you  the  friend 
ship  Ivava  bade  us  foster,"  I  reminded  her.  "  He  asked 
nothing  of  us  but  that  we  help  him  in  some  way  by 
acceptance  of  all  kindness.  That  seems  an  easy  enough 
task,  and  if  you  are  made  choice  of  for  first  favorite, 
why  not  be  gracious?  " 

She  consented,  after  insisting  that  my  own  locks 
needed  care  as  much  as  hers,  and  our  hostess  cour 
teously  showed  pleasure  that  I  would  accept  a  head 
bath  —  a  curious  custom,  but  a  most  grateful  one  after 
the  long  weeks  of  desert  travel. 

Thus,  in  turn,  our  hair  was  lathered  and  rinsed  and 
lathered  again,  to  the  joy  of  the  household,  for  each  one 
put  his  or  her  hand  to  the  task  though  ever  so  lightly, 


AMONG    SERPENT    PEOPLE        297 

and  the  woman  was  smiling,  and  over  the  head  of 
Sancha  said  "  Poli-kota  "  and  the  children  also  said  it 
shyly,  and  ran  out  again  into  the  sunshine.  Over  my 
head  there  was  not  so  much  ceremony,  but  some  laugh 
ter,  and  when  it  was  all  ended,  we  sat  on  the  terraced 
roof  in  the  sun  to  dry  it,  and  to  watch  the  visitors 
streaming  in  from  south  and  east.  There  were  even  a 
few  traders  of  the  Navajo  who  came  with  browned  deer 
skins,  and  lumps  of  turquoise.  They  had  their  wives 
and  horses,  and  were  great  rangers,  also  they  were  tall, 
shapely  men. 

Padre  de  Vallada  found  us  thus  among  the  curious 
pagans,  with  the  hair  of  Sancha  drifting  about  her  in  a 
dark  cloud,  and  my  own  inclined  to  extra  bushiness  not 
so  becoming. 

"  Have  you  had  heretical  baptism?  "  he  asked,  and 
looked  us  over  suspiciously,  but  the  fright  of  Sancha  at 
the  thought  reassured  him.  :-<i 

"  Still,  they  do  it  that  way,"  he  stated.  "  A  bowl  of 
suds  in  the  house  of  any  of  their  magicians,  and  no 
sanctity  about  it ;  also  they  change  gifts  and  it  is  done." 

But  he  approved  the  use  of  the  yucca  root  they  used 
for  washing  suds  —  it  was  good  for  all  things,  but 
especially  for  the  hair.  He  used  it  when  a  good  chance 
came.  Then  he  became  interested  in  some  of  the  new 
comers,  hailed  a  convert  occasionally,  and  pointed  out 
those  of  the  aggressive  pagan  element;  they  were 
usually  the  old  men.  Some  of  them  did  not  even  look 
up  at  us  on  the  terrace  —  but  most  of  the  younger  ele 
ment  was  openly  curious. 

And  I  saw  Sancha  drawing  the  girdle  under  her  robe 
lest  Padre  de  Vallada  note  that  it  was  not  there  by 


2g8      THE    HOUSE    OF    THE    DAWN 

chance.  That  was  her  first  definite  move  to  shield  her 
exchange  of  courtesies  with  pagan  friends  —  this  from 
our  Sancha,  who,  in  the  spring  of  the  year,  had  taken 
the  trail  to  found  a  convent,  and  wipe  out  all  pagan 
thought  by  proper  conventual  prayer! 

But  when  I  teased  her  about  it,  she  would  not  laugh. 

"  How  was  I  to  know  the  desert  tribes  have  two 
prayers  to  every  one  of  ours,  and  that  the  smallest 
children  glory  in  them?  "  she  asked.  "  My  own  thought 
is  that  our  priests  should  learn  the  old  here,  before 
striving  to  engraft  the  new.  They  do  worship  some  of 
the  same  things  under  different  names,  but  it  takes  time 
to  learn  the  names.  Their  plan  of  life  is  not  bad  at  all. 
Mother  Clemente  never  heard  true  things  of  these 
northern  people;  they  are  gentle  people  and  kind." 

"  Yet  when  persecuted  they  did  battle  with  the  fierce 
Apache,"  I  reminded  her.  "  You  need  not  think  because 
they  love  you  that  they  are  angels ;  we  all  do  that,  yet 
our  feet  are  on  the  earth. 

She  smiled,  but  gave  my  open  avowal  of  devotion  no 
further  attention.  With  the  approach  to  safety,  the 
spell  of  the  Desert  had  fallen  over  her,  and  she  saw  all 
things  through  a  golden  haze  of  illusion.  All  priests' 
tales  of  the  unregenerate  red  man  in  need  of  civilizing 
had  been  denied  by  her  own  days  among  them.  Even 
when  a  prisoner,  she  had  been  treated  better  than  if 
captured  by  wild  Saxon  tribes,  or  even  chiefs  in  war  cf 
other  Europe  lands.  These  things  she  knew,  and  was 
just  enough  to  acknowledge  after  her  first  rebellion  had 
burned  itself  out.  But  now,  strangely  enough,  with  no 
one  to  give  word  or  influence,  she  suddenly  glorified  the 
common  things  of  life  about  her  until  she  no  longer 


AMONG    SERPENT    PEOPLE       299 

lived  in  the  real  but  in  a  seeming  world,  full  of  a  beau 
tiful  strangeness  in  which  mysteries  touched  her  on 
every  side.  Always  the  sky  and  the  stars  had  been 
above  her  and  plain  to  her  sight,  but  now  she  walked 
sleepless  to  watch  their  beauty,  and  felt  cheated  if 
weariness  caused  her  to  lose  a  single  glimpse  of  the 
gorgeous  dawns. 

I  was  more  bewildered  by  her  in  those  days  than  ever 
before.  Her  tempers  I  could  understand,  and  her  sweet 
ness  ;  her  stubborn  loyalty  to  the  ideal  lover  of  her  child 
hood,  enhanced  as  it  was  by  devotion  of  letter  and  pic 
tured  face  —  all  that  was  the  natural  impulse  of  a  nature 
meant  for  love ;  but  the  still  dreaming  in  dusks  and 
dawns  when  she  slipped  away  from  voices  to  pace 
either  the  sands  or  the  terraces  alone,  and  her  sudden 
great  gentleness  with  all  things  heretofore  disdained, 
and  her  quick  will  to  turn  critic  of  even  herself  and  the 
thoughts  of  the  clergy  —  that  was  a  big  and  serious 
thing.  Also  it  was  a  dangerous  thing  where  we  were 
going.  Since  the  Holy  Office  in  Santa  Fe  was  strong 
enough,  as  had  been  proven  for  years,  to  displace  any 
governor  not  to  their  liking,  what  chance  was  there  for 
even  a  maid  of  degree  who  came  out  of  the  Desert 
with  good  words  for  the  pagan  lives  so  abhorrent  to  all 
proper  devotees? 

Thoughts  like  these  had  been  my  company  more  than 
once,  but  were  given  point  there  in  the  terraced  town 
where  the  clash  of  pagan  and  priest  had  suddenly 
become  vital  to  me  in  the  dark  looks  of  the  old  men, 
and  the  natural  intolerance  of  Padre  de  Vallada.  He 
confessed  that  the  old  men  would  have  to  die  off  before 
any  but  a  few  women  and  children  would  accept  the 


rj  ^ejvsyyojwiJgj^M/^1    Tj<g;v^\^v^rv^ 

•  J"*" 

300      THE    HOUSE    OF    THE    DAWN 

faith  in  truth,  though  many  came  cheerfully,  even  gaily, 
to  baptism,  as  it  was  one  of  their  own  ceremonies,  and 
they  gave  no  more  weight  to  a  sprinkle  of  holy  water 
than  to  toss  upward  a  pinch  of  prayer  meal,  or  puff  of 
smoke,  as  they  did  when  speech  was  made  of  their  devil 
ish  gods. 

Padre  de  Vallada  asked  for  Sefior  Alcatraz,  and  not 
finding  him,  called  a  Walpi  youth  to  interpret  for  him 
to  the  few  Navajos.  He  had  hoped  he  could  gain  con 
verts  among  them  if  once  they  were  led  in  by  friendly 
Hopi.  I  listened  while  they  told  whence  they  came, 
which  place  was  great  Tseye —  the  rift  in  the  earth 
from  which  their  gods  had  surely  emerged.  The  Walpi 
interpreter  listened  politely  to  this,  and  later  told  us  that 
in  the  ancient  days  it  was  his  own  people  who  had  lived 
sheltered  in  the  deep  canon  walls,  but  the  clans  had 
come  —  a  few,  and  then  many  —  out  into  the  sunshine, 
until  now  they  all  lived  like  the  eagles,  very  high  above 
the  lands  —  higher  in  the  air  than  they  had  once  built 
deep  in  the  bosom  of  the  earth;  also  he  added  that  the 
graves  of  the  ancient  fathers  of  the  Hopitu  were  in 
Tseye  to  prove  his  words,  while  the  Navajo  were  people 
of  a  yesterday. 

Padre  de  Vallada  properly  rebuked  him  for  unseemly 
pride  of  ancient  ancestry,  since  the  pagans  of  course 
were  all  brothers  alike,  and  none  of  more  importance 
than  his  fellows.  But  Sancha  smiled  on  the  pretensions 
of  the  interpreter,  and  reminded  the  padre  that  it  was 
by  such  pride  of  ancestry  that  every  ruling  family  of 
Castile  held  claim  on  eminence.  By  their  accounts,  the 
Hopi  were  older  than  many  proud  lines  of  Hispania,  and 
for  her  part  she  was  hopeful  the  journey  might  take  us 


AMONG  SERPENT  PEOPLE   301 

to  that  oft-mentioned  wonder  cradle  of  the  clans  — 
mysterious  Tseye. 

The  Navajo  watched  while  she  spoke,  as  did  also  the 
other  Indio  people,  for  their  women  speak  gravely  and 
seldom  before  strangers,  and  do  not  smile  on  all  as  did 
Sancha.  They  looked  on  her  robe  and  rosary,  and  asked 
if  she  was  of  high  medicine  orders,  also  they  said  that 
when  she  journeyed  to  the  east  they  would  be  as  guide 
for  her  through  their  lands. 

The  older  men  in  the  Hopi  circle  exchanged  quiet 
glances  when  this  was  said,  but  Sancha  and  the  padre 
were  in  some  friendly  discussion  and  did  not  note  it.  I, 
because  of  the  words  of  Tristan,  was  alert  and  making 
note  of  all  things,  and  wished  him  with  us  to  prompt  us 
for  reply  to  this  offer.  I  had  to  content  myself  by  smil 
ing  on  one  and  all  most  amicably,  and  let  it  go  at  that. 

As  the  day  wore  on,  all  of  Walpi  assumed  its  gala 
dress.  Children  ran  about  garbed  in  a  little  paint,  the 
warm  sunshine,  and  strings  of  beads,  while  the  maidens 
appeared  on  the  terraces  in  sober  native  weavings,  with 
red  or  green  girdles,  and  their  hair  in  the  wheel-like 
dressing  over  either  ear.  There  was  a  subdued  sense  of 
importance  everywhere.  Each  good  housewife  had 
foods  prepared,  for  visitors  or  relatives.  The  Navajo 
women  in  their  dress  of  skins,  peered  with  a  child's 
interest  into  bowls  and  cooking  pots,  for  they  were 
as  folk  of  the  wilderness  on  visits  to  a  central  city.  All 
these  things  filled  the  day  for  Sancha  and  me,  though 
each  of  us  thought  often  of  the  friend  who  was  some 
where  underground  in  that  place  of  the  serpent  den.  A 
great  sheaf  of  green  boughs  was  erected  in  the  center 
of  the  plaza  and  appeared  of  special  interest,  for  the 


pn 


302      THE    HOUSE    OF    THE    DAWN 

visitors  and  Walpians  gradually  moved  in  that  direc 
tion,  chatting,  and  placing  themselves  comfortably 
along  the  edges  of  the  roofs,  and  perching  on  ladders, 
until  from  the  stone  floor  of  the  mesa  to  the  sky  line 
above  there  was  a  sea  of  Indian  faces  looking  down. 

"  But  for  the  difference  in  color  and  dress,  one  might 
think  it  a  fight  at  home  with  a  bull,"  said  Sancha.  "  Is 
it  not  so?" 

I  could  not  agree  that  a  gathering  of  pagan  barbarians 
in  an  infidel  ceremony  could  have  likeness  to  repre 
sentatives  of  the  finest  families  of  Castile  gathered  for 
royal  sport.  My  imagination  had  its  limits.  Sancha's 
had  none. 

"  Well,"  she  said  finally,  after  I  had  expressed  my 
thought  of  it,  "  if  it  is  danger  makes  the  sport,  I  should 
say  that  these  pagans  at  their  prayers  handling  serpents 
show  more  brave  blood  than  all  our  ancestors  sitting 
in  rows  to  watch  a  trained  man  and  old  horses  tease  a 
bull  to  death." 

We  almost  made  a  quarrel  over  that,  but  Movi  inter 
fered  with  her  slow  smile  and  gentle  voice. 

"  Soon  the  Antelope  priests  will  come  from  the  £ivn, 
and  after  that  the  priests  of  the  snake  will  come,"  she 
said.  "  The  clan  of  my  father  is  of  that  people,  and 
because  of  the  gift  of  the  bell  they  ask  a  new  promise 
of  you  —  will  you  come?  " 

Sancha  was  all  alert  with  interest,  yet  feared  to  leave 
the  plaza  lest  the  ceremony  of  the  day  be  lost,  but  I 
reminded  her  it  was  a  time  to  return  all  kindnesses. 

"  Yes  —  we  will  go,  but  why  wait  so  late,  Movi?  "  she 
said.  "  This  is  the  time  when  all  are  waiting  and  watch 
ing  in  the  plaza." 


U  w._J  LrrrrJ  i — 


AMONG  SERPENT  PEOPLE   303 

"  That  is  so,"  agreed  Movi  —  "  and  that  is  the  time 
when  no  one  sees  us." 

"  Juanito  must  also  come?  " 

"  Yes  —  that  is  best,  come,"  said  Movi. 

She  fairly  ran  to  an  opening  in  a  little  plaza  to  the 
west,  where  a  ladder  came  up  out  of  the  ground,  and 
a  woman  stood  watching.  I  thought  it  Lenmana,  the 
woman  who  had  been  our  hostess  in  the  house  where 
the  girl  ground  wedding  meal,  but  the  dress  was  differ 
ent,  and  I  could  not  be  sure ;  she  wore  a  white  shawl, 
and  very  white  boots. 

There  was  some  hesitation  about  allowing  me  to  fol 
low  Sancha,  but  I  had  been  told  to  keep  near,  and  the 
haste  to  get  her  away  from  the  crowd  was  curious  to 
me. 

"  Take  no  trouble  for  me,  Juanito,"  called  Sancha 
from  the  cavern  place.  "  I  think  it  is  a  well  intentioned 
thing  —  and  you  will  laugh.  Sit  you  there  on  the  ladder 
until  they  are  through  with  me  —  the  time  will  not  be 
long." 

After  Movi  had  finished  as  interpreter  in  the  £iva, 
she  came  up,  and  sat  by  me  on  the  ladder,  smiling. 

"  I  am  not  told  why  it  is,"  she  confessed,  "  but  the 
clan  of  my  father  wish  to  do  a  kindness,  and  he  thinks 
it  is  good  she  puts  off  the  robe  of  a  priest  here  this  day. 
There  are  men  from  Oriabe  here,  and  they  are  in  anger 
—  that  is  all  I  know.  Your  priests  have  angered  them, 
and  a  maid  in  a  priest's  robe  is  to  them  crooked  magic. 
At  this  time  all  are  making  prayers  for  power  that  is 
strong.  My  people  want  Poli-kota  safe,  as  Ivava  is 
safe  —  so  it  is  they  give  to  her  a  Hopi  dress,  as  Len 
mana  gave  to  her  a  Hopi  name." 


304      THE    HOUSE    OF    THE    DAWN 

Then  I  knew  what  they  meant  by  saying  the  curious 
word  over  Sancha's  foam  white  head.  It  was  a  Hopi 
name,  and  so  ugly  it  would  cure  her  of  fancy  for  Hopi 
custom.  I  chuckled  over  the  thought,  while  Movi 
patiently  explained  that  Oriabe  men  had  many  jealous 
days  concerning  Walpi  clans,  and  it  seemed  as  if  the 
priests  of  the  Castilians  put  them  in  confusion  with  each 
ether.  Also  she  said  she  had  never  seen  a  ceremonial 
day  of  any  of  the  brotherhoods  when  so  many  of  the 
old  men  looked  darkly  on  each  other.  What  it  boded 
she  did  not  know. 

My  interest  in  their  various  factions  was  slight,  and, 
whatever  their  discord  might  be,  we  would  take  the 
trail  at  dawn  and  see  no  more  of  it  —  or  that  was  my 
comforting  thought. 

So  satisfied  was  I  with  it,  that  I  listened  more  to 
the  laughter  of  Sancha  in  the  woman's  £r'va  than  to  the 
quiet  tones  of  Movi  beside  me  on  the  ladder.  Whatever 
was  going  forward  down  there  in  the  underground 
room,  it  was  not  a  thing  of  trouble,  for  Sancha  was  as 
gay  as  a  child  in  accepting  their  friendship  offering. 

But,  when  she  called  up  that  I  must  close  my  eyes 
until  she  stood  beside  me,  I  had  little  preparation  for 
that  which  I  saw  when  I  looked  upon  her.  It  was  not 
alone  the  dress  and  girdle,  but  the  hair  dressing  of  the 
maids  of  Tusayan,  which  is,  in  my  mind,  the  real  test 
to  a  comely  face. 

I  knew  not  whether  to  laugh  or  disapprove,  for  in 
mockery  of  me  she  stood  smiling  shyly,  with  the  manta 
of  white  about  her,  and  the  wheels  of  her  dark  hair 
coiled  over  her  ears. 

She  looked  it  all  too  well,  and  so  I  told  her;  no  one 


AMONG  SERPENT  PEOPLE   305 


who  had  ever  seen  her  in  the  palace  of  the  viceroy 
would  know  her  now  for  the  Marquesa  de  Llorente  y 
Rivera. 

"  I  make  you  my  compliments,  Poli-kota,"  I  said 
with  my  best  bow.  "  I  find  comfort  that  you  retain  at 
least  the  rosary  of  civilization !  "  In  my  heart  I  dreaded 
having  the  padre  see  her. 

"  Poli-kota !  what  a  thing  to  call  me,"  and  she 
laughed  as  she  whirled  on  her  toes  and  then  made 
mocking  courtesy.  But  the  small  sister  of  Movi  called 
to  us  from  the  terrace,  and  Sancha  caught  my  hand 
and  made  me  run  with  her. 

"  Am  I  not  fine?  "  she  asked.  "  It  is  a  garb  of  good 
service  for  the  trail,  but  I  will  need  a  tirewoman  for 
the  hair  dressing,  so  difficult  it  is,  Juanito.  They  tell 
me  there  is  a  wide  well  on  the  mesa  beyond  the  shrine 
where  the  trails  meet;  you  must  take  me  there  before 
the  light  goes  —  I  want  it  for  a  mirror." 

We  had  reached  the  plaza,  and  found  again  our  place 
en  the  terrace  by  the  strange  column  of  stone.  There 
was  a  quiet  "  Ah !  "  went  round  the  swarthy  circle,  and 
some  said  "  Lolomi!  "  and  there  were  smiles  given  us. 

But  we  had  scarcely  been  settled,  when,  as  if  far  off, 
we  heard  muffled  voices  and  rattles,  and  up  from  a  £iva 
came  a  fearsome  group  who  circled  the  plaza,  and  then 
did  a  shuffle  sort  of  dance  before  the  green  boughs.  I 
turned  to  Movi,  who  said  it  was  the  Antelope  priests, 
but  more  than  that  I  could  not  learn,  for  a  louder  and  a 
different  note  sounded  and  every  head  turned  to  watch, 
and  Sancha  took  my  hand. 

"  Listen,  Juanito !  even  the  Indies  show  their  awe  of 
this  which  is  coming.  I  would  he  were  beside  us !  " 


306     THE    HOUSE    OF    THE    DAWN 

She  did  not  say  who,  but  there  was  no  need,  for  her 
wish  was  my  own.  The  painting  of  the  Antelope  priests 
made  them  aught  but  comely,  yet  their  appearance  was 
fairly  mild  compared  with  the  Snake  priests  who  swept 
into  the  plaza  with  a  ruthless  force  dangerous  to  any 
thing  in  their  path. 

They  circled  the  plaza,  they  sounded  before  the  altar 
of  green  boughs  their  message  to  the  spirit  priests  of 
the  shadow  world,  and  then  the  thing  they  did  is  a 
thing  not  to  be  believed,  but  my  own  eyes  saw  it,  and 
the  shudder  of  Sancha  and  the  muttered  execration  of 
Padre  de  Vallada  told  me  I  was  not  in  a  devil's  dream. 

For  out  of  that  altar  of  green  boughs  they  drew  hand- 
fuls  of  serpents  big  and  little,  they  circled  the  plaza  with 
them  coiled  around  neck,  shoulder  and  arms.  Their 
shuffling  dance,  which  was  of  a  strangeness  in  itself,  was 
done  with  serpents  darting  here  and  there  between  their 
feet,  and  all  the  while  there  was  a  monotonous  droning, 
like  a  wordless  chant  to  which  they  circled  —  the  Snake 
priests  with  their  coiling  serpents,  and  the  Antelope 
attendants,  who  stroked  with  eagle  feathers  the  loath 
some  reptiles.  At  the  last  they  were  all  tossed  in  a 
great  pile  and  sprinkled  with  prayer  meal,  and  then 
gathered  in  bare  hands  and  borne  to  the  four  ways  to 
carry  messages  to  the  gods  that  the  faith  of  the  people 
was  great,  and  the  devotion  of  the  Snake  priests  was 
strong ! 

"  It  is  diabolical  sorcery  flung  in  the  face  of  the 
church !  "  declared  Padre  de  Vallada.  "  What  further 
evidence  is  needed  that  devils  out  of  hell  still  walk  the 
earth?" 

"  Yet  harmless  to  all,"  said  the  voice  of  Tristan  back 


AMONG  SERPENT  PEOPLE   307 

of  us.  "  Did  not  Jesus,  the  Teacher,  say  all  faithful  to 
God,  the  Father,  could  thus  deal  with  serpents  and 
scorpions?  These  people  do  this  thing  in  natural  faith, 
and  for  that  are  they  condemned,  yet  in  all  their  cere 
monies  we  hear  of  no  one  injured." 

"Is  not  the  spirit  of  man  injured  if  not  the  body?" 
demanded  the  padre,  who  was  livid  with  horror.  "  I 
have  heard  of  these  abominations,  but  now  my  own  eyes 
have  looked  upon  them,  and  I  shall  tell  these  pagans 


"  Tell  them  nothing  today,  Your  Reverence,"  said 
Tristan  lowly,  "  their  temper  is  not  good  for  a  sermon 
after  what  they  have  gone  through.  It  has  meant  eight 
days  and  nights  in  the  £iva,  and  fasting  since  set  of  sun 
yesterday.  They  are  exalted  for  any  sacrifice,  and  it  is 
a  time  for  wise  silences." 

"  They  send  you  out  of  their  den  of  evil  with  advice 
to  a  priest  of  the  church?  "  accused  Padre  de  Vallada, 
but  Tristan  shook  his  head,  and  kept  his  voice  carefully 
lowered  because  of  Indians  near  who  were  silent  and 
intent. 

"  No  one  has  told  me,  no  one  has  sent  me,  but  there 
are  converts  here  today,  men  from  Oriabe,  and  they  are 
not  well  received  in  this  place.  That  may  seem  to 
you  a  simple  matter,  but  nothing  these  people  do  is 
without  meaning." 

"  Even  that?  "  said  the  priest,  pointing  to  Sancha,  who 
stood  with  face  turned  away,  suddenly  conscious  of 
her  hair,  half  shamed  before  Tristan  though  it  had  only 
been  a  jest  with  me.  "  Are  we  to  choose  their  customs 
to  suit  their  vanities?  It  is  a  new  way!  " 

Then  Tristan  saw  her  and  smiled. 


a 


v     [c? 

^— *  V 

^TQ^^A^V 
308     THE    HOUSE    OF   THE    DAWN 

"  It  is  so  good  a  way,  Padre  de  Vallada,  that  I  could 
wish  the  clans  would  offer  the  same  garb  to  every  Chris 
tian  in  Tusayan  this  day,"  he  said  with  so  much  force 
that  the  priest  frowned  back,  sore  perplexed. 

"  Why  this  day,  and  why  Christians  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  I  do  not  know.  I  am  not  told.  You  and  your  com 
rade  priest  should  know  each  word  here,  and  the  cause 
of  it.  I  came  yesterday,  I  go  tomorrow.  I  give  thanks 
that  they  welcome  my  friends,  but  I  am  glad  to  go 
quickly." 

I  led  Sancha  away  lest  she  have  fear  at  the  words. 
On  the  long  trail  the  dauntless  spirit  of  her  had  been  a 
rare  comfort,  and  I  had  no  mind  to  have  it  spoiled  by 
Indio  factions  and  their  troubles,  now  that  we  were 
at  the  far  gate  of  the  land. 

As  it  was,  she  feared  Padre  de  Vallada  disapproved 
of  her,  and  that  was  bad  indeed,  but  not  so  serious  as 
would  be  his  anger  at  Tristan  that  pagan  sanctuaries 
were  open  to  him  when  closed  against  the  priests  of 
holy  church. 

I  thought  as  much  myself,  but  cared  little  to  dwell 
upon  it,  and  reminded  her  of  the  well  on  the  mesa  to 
be  used  as  a  mirror.  The  sun  was  sinking,  and  it  was 
the  time  when  maids  and  matrons  filled  the  water  jars 
for  the  morning. 

Willingly  she  consented,  for  it  was  her  last  chance  of 
seeing  herself  as  a  Hopi  maid;  also,  she  was  eager 
enough  to  walk  where  we  could  speak  freely  of  the 
unbelievable  thing  we  had  seen. 

"Were  they  killed  —  the  serpents?"  she  asked,  and 
glanced  warily  about  the  trail  when  I  told  her  they 
had  been  carried  to  the  four  points  of  the  compass  and 


AMONG    SERPENT    PEOPLE       309 

let  go  to  bear  witness  to  native  gods  that  the  faith  of 
the  Hopi  priests  was  strong. 

"  I  would  that  he  might  tell  us  what  other  wonders 
he  saw  underground,"  she  ventured,  "  but  it  is  scarce 
to  be  hoped,  since  all  is  secret  even  from  their  brothers. 
It  is  strange." 

As  we  passed  the  great  shrine,  an  Indio  followed  us 
by  another  and  narrower  way,  and  halted  at  the  western 
edge  of  the  mesa  watching  us. 

"  He  also  sat  near  on  the  terrace,"  she  said,  "  and  I 
think  he  is  of  the  family  of  Movi  —  each  place  I  go,  I  see 
him  near." 

Movi  heard  us,  and  smiled. 

"  It  is  my  brother,  Wisti,"  she  said,  "  also  he  speak 
Castilian  and  Pueblo  for  the  padres,  and  now  he  goes 
the  trail  with  you  to  Santa  Fe.  It  is  his  work  to  see 
you  all  with  your  own  people." 

The  man  must  have  heard  her,  but  made  no  move 
towards  us.  Later  I  learned  that  his  indifference  had 
a  reason.  He  was  to  guard  and  report  all  things,  yet 
run  no  risk  of  being  thought  over  friendly  lest  another 
be  put  in  his  place.  The  Oriabe  visitors  had  decided 
that  a  white  woman  in  trie  Painted  Desert  meant  a  col 
ony  settlement  as  at  Santa  Cruz  and  Santa  Fe,  and  that 
was  the  least  desirable  of  things,  so  it  was  the  task  of 
friendly  Walpi  clans  to  bear  the  task  of  proof.  He 
watched,  listened,  and  reported. 

Above  the  shrine,  ancient  steps  were  cut  in  the  point 
of  the  cliff,  and  up  there  we  followed  the  maids  with 
the  water  vessels.  It  was  their  hour  of  laughter  and 
careless  jests  with  each  other.  Some  visiting  youths 
were  crossing  the  trail  there,  and  despite  an  older 


3io      THE    HOUSE    OF    THE    DAWN 

woman  who  served  as  duenna,  there  were  looks 
exchanged,  and  gay  railleries  as  the  maids  teased  each 
other,  and  ran  up  the  incline,  pausing  at  the  edge  to 
glance  down  at  the  men  on  the  west  trail  below. 

It  was  a  wonderful  place  up  there  on  the  mesa  of  the 
well.  A  cool  air  followed  the  sun,  and  the  moon  showed 
silver  white  above  the  far  blue  cliffs.  There  was  the 
scent  of  sage  in  the  air;  and  some  other  shrub,  nearer 
and  sweetly  penetrating.  Sancha  asked  of  it,  and  was 
shown  small  roses  of  yellow  and  its  low  growing  green 
on  the  trail.  Further  ahead  it  had  more  height  and 
strength.  Sancha  was  gay  as  the  most  carefree  maid 
of  them  all;  in  great  good  humor  with  herself  when 
once  av/ay  from  the  chiding  eyes  of  watchful  Padre  de 
Vallada.  She  even  ran  races  with  them,  and  was  left 
behind,  whereupon  the  visitors  ran  back  to  her  with 
smiles  and  comforting  words.  Then  they  led  her  to  the 
pool  that  she  might  kneel  there  on  the  stone  and  bend 
over  to  view  herself  in  the  curious  hair  dressing  reserved 
for  maidens. 

They  were  like  children  in  their  humor  with  her, 
and  I  stood  apart,  a  guard  who  was  needed  as  little  as 
silent  Wisti,  who  remained  at  the  head  of  the  stairway. 
I  watched  him  with  a  friendly  desire  to  fraternize  if  he 
was  to  be  a  companion  of  the  trail,  but  the  fact  that 
he  spoke  Spanish,  yet  had  not  betrayed  it  to  Sancha  or 
me,  withheld  me. 

Noting  that  the  Indian  maids  were  more  free  when 
I  was  not  near,  I  found  myself  a  seat  and  idly  watched 
a  man  who  ran  to  the  east,  past  the  cornfields.  I  strove 
to  keep  him  in  sight,  but  he  faded  into  the  shadowy 
places  where  canons  were,  and  over  all  drifted  the  tur- 


AMONG    SERPENT    PEOPLE       311 


quoise  and  soft  gray  of  the  sky,  and  the  evening  star 
like  a  glimmer  of  gold  in  the  west. 

The  place  had  a  beauty  so  strange  that  nothing  but 
the  quaint  garb  of  the  Hopi  people  seemed  right  for 
it.  My  own  worn  apparel  would  have  spoiled  any 
picture,  and  I  was  as  well  satisfied  not  to  use  the  mir 
ror  of  the  pool.  But  while  watching  the  others,  the 
thought  came  that  even  the  peaceful  tribes  of  the  south 
dressed  and  looked  like  savages,  but  these  people  of 
many  mysteries  had  a  great  correctness  in  their  dress 
regulations.  The  little  children  ran  naked,  and  the 
men  in  the  races  almost  so,  yet  when  they  did  put 
on  garments,  it  was  after  a  rigid  manner;  and  no 
woman,  old  or  young,  was  without  the  enveloping 
manta,  by  which,  in  modesty,  the  lines  of  the  form 
were  concealed. 

I  heard  one  of  the  maids  laugh  and  say  "Poli-kota," 
while  others  flicked  water  from  the  pool  on  Sancha,  at 
which  there  were  little  shrieks,  as  she,  with  a  clay  dip 
per,  gave  back  as  good  as  they  sent.  Thus  without  a 
common  language,  and  only  the  spirit  of  youth  as 
medium,  they  got  along  very  gaily. 

I  had  never  before  seen  Sancha  with  groups  of  young 
people  except  when  backed  by  all  the  convention  of 
Castilian  forms.  Always  I  had  seen  her  with  people 
of  mature  years,  and  the  nuns,  and  the  ecclesiastical 
flavor  of  life  where  there  was  little  of  freedom. 

I  was  thinking  of  this,  and  noting  how  rosy  her 
cheek,  and  how  sweet  her  laughter,  when  a  step  sounded 
back  of  me,  and  Tristan  was  there. 

He  was  breathing  quickly  as  if  from  running,  and  I 
asked  the  cause  of  haste. 


312      THE    HOUSE    OF    THE    DAWN 

"  None,  now  that  I  see  you  both  in  safety,"  he  con 
fessed  —  "  but  I  was  not  told  where  she  had  gone,  and 
if  by  chance  it  had  been  on  the  lower  trails " 

"  What  then?  "  I  asked,  and  he  smiled. 

"  Nothing,  since  you  are  not  there,"  he  said.  "  But 
the  Oriabe  men  go  home  that  way,  and  they  are  in  some 
way  jealous  that  we  are  here.  It  may  be  a  matter  of 
religion,  for  there  is  a  special  feeling  against  the  wearers 
of  robes." 

"  Yet  you  wear  one,"  I  said. 

"  The  Walpi  men  understand  that,  but  the  Oriabe 
men  are  of  different  mind,"  he  said.  "  I  only  anger 
Padre  de  Vallada  when  I  try  to  make  him  see,  but 
there  is  a  strong  feeling  against  his  brother  priest  be 
cause  white  children  are  born  now  in  Tusayan.  The 
heads  of  the  clans  have  held  council  on  the  matter,  and 
there  is  a  brewing  of  troubles  to  come.  I  was  even 
warned  that  it  is  better  we  all  turn  south  again  from 
here,  and  not  try  to  cross  to  the  Rio  Bravo.  But  since 
that  is  not  to  be,  the  Walpi  men  will  send  a  strong 
friend  who  knows  the  speech  of  other  tribes." 

"You  mean  Wisti?" 

"  You  learn  fast,"  he  said,  "  and  so  does  your  lady 
cousin;  there  is  no  thing  more  wise  that  she  could  do 
than  to  wear  the  dress  today  —  and  use  that  coiling  of 
the  hair." 

All  the  vessels  were  filled,  and  the  women  had  started 
back  along  the  trail,  when  Sancha  saw  him,  and 
laughed. 

"  Have  you  come  with  a  sermon  from  the  padre  on 
my  vanity  of  spirit?  "  she  asked.  "  Since  it  is  only  once 
in  my  life,  I  come  to  look  at  myself." 


AMONG    SERPENT    PEOPLE 

"  It  is  worth  your  trouble,"  he  answered,  "  but  keep 
to  your  priest's  robe  for  the  cloak  you  may  need  in  cold 
rains.  You  must  not  remain  away  from  the  village  until 
the  dusk  comes.  I  am  as  the  shepherd,  whose  duty  it  is 
to  guard  you  back." 

"  Sleepless  shepherd !  "  she  said.  "  When  do  you 
rest?  And  is  it  the  serpents  you  have  fear  of  here  after 
dusk?  I  shall  see  them  in  my  dreams  for  many  a  night." 

"  Nay,  Excellencia,  keep  them  not  in  your  mind  as 
things  altogether  of  horror.  They  have  a  double  tongue 
and  carry  messages  to  the  gods,  also  they  have  ears, 
and  are  thought  to  hear  when  evil  is  said  of  them.  An 
Indio  does  not  say  evil  of  any  of  the  things  of  nature 
—  not  even  a  hurricane  —  because  God  is  in  all." 

"  We  may  learn  from  them  in  that,"  she  said.  "  What 
shall  I  do  to  make  my  peace,  or  my  thanks,  that  they 
did  not  eat  me?  Movi,  what  do  you  to  make  thanks?  " 

"  We  place  prayer  plumes  for  gifts  or  thanks,  and  we 
make  shrines  for  that." 

"  Then  will  I,"  declared  Sancha,  "  in  memory,  and 
when  I  am  gone,  you  will  come  to  it  sometimes  and 
think  of  the  days  when  we  were  wanderers  in  the  wide 
Desert." 

"  That  will  I,  Isiwa,"  said  Movi,  "  and  isiva  is  sister." 

There  was  a  natural  elevation  in  the  rock  floor,  and 
on  it  Sancha  placed  small  stones  as  a  child  builds  a 
home.  Movi  helped  by  bringing  others. 

"  But  ai  me !  I  have  neither  prayer  meal  nor  incense," 
lamented  Sancha ;  "  and,  after  all,  it  will  only  be  a  pile 
of  stone  on  the  mesa  floor." 

"Could  you  lack  incense  when  you  have  this?"  and 
Tristan  broke  sprays  of  the  sweet  smelling  shrub  on 


314     THE   HOUSE    OF   THE   DAWN 

which  were  yellow,  roselike  bloom  of  much  sweetness. 
As  he  offered  it,  Sancha  uttered  a  little  cry,  for  a  white 
butterfly  fluttered  from  its  resting  place,  and  hovered 
over  the  blossoms,  unafraid. 

Movi  clapped  her  hands  in  delight. 

"  It  is  good !  It  is  truly  most  good !  "  she  said.  "  This 
day  you  get  the  name,  '  White  Butterfly,'  and  at  the 
star  time  the  white  one  comes  to  your  memory  shrine. 
It  is  a  sign  from  Those  Above,  and  it  is  good  to  you." 

Tristan  laid  the  flowering  branch  on  the  little  heap 
of  stone,  for  Sancha  did  not  take  it,  she  was  staring 
at  the  white  thing  on  the  odorous  offering,  and  her 
eyes  were  wide,  and  the  laughter  was  gone  from  her 
face. 

Tristan  was  silent  as  she.  I  was  half  afraid  at  the 
way  the  thing  had  chanced. 

"  What  is  this,  Movi?  "  I  asked,  "  what  is  it  you  say 
of  the  butterfly  name?  We  have  not  been  told." 

"  Today  —  Poli-kota  — '  Butterfly  white,'  that  is  the 
name.  It  is  now  the  Hopi  name  for  the  sister  of  you. 
Have  you  angry  thoughts  that  you  are  now  sad?  " 

"  Not  sad,"  said  Tristan,  "  only  it  is  a  new  thought 
and  it  had  not  come  to  us  before.  The  name  is  a  beau 
tiful  name,  and  it  is  fitting  it  should  be  made  very  sacred. 
Surely,  Excellencia,  you  will  accept  the  little  rose  of  the 
hernava  when  lacking  other  incense?  " 

"  O  God  of  my  life !  "  said  Sancha,  and  it  was  as  if 
she  spoke  through  shut  teeth  lest  she  scream,  "  it  is  in 
truth  a  sign,  it  is  in  truth!  It  is  fitting  that  I  should 
build  a  memory  shrine  —  I  who  have  forgotten!  We 
were  to  build  a  shrine,  the  two  of  us,  and  the  butterfly 
has  come  to  me  in  the  Desert  to  show  me  how  far  I 


AMONG  SERPENT  PEOPLE   315 

am  now  from  that  thought!  It  has  come  to  tell  me 
that." 

"  Nay,  Excellencia,  it  did  not  come.  I  brought  it," 
said  Tristan.  "  It  was  asleep  in  its  quiet  resting  place, 
so  the  fault  is  mine." 

"  Do  not  call  me  '  excellencia,'  and  it  is  not  a  fault," 
she  made  answer.  "  It  is  my  own  saint  has  sent  me  a 
sign,  and  it  is  you  who  have  made  the  shrine  with  me, 
Kahn  Alcatraz !  " 

"  If  it  makes  you  sad,  I  stand  ready  for  any  penance, 
Butterfly  Maiden,"  he  said. 

"  I  should  be  sad,  yet  I  am  only  sore  bewildered,"  she 
confessed.  "  Out  of  all  the  things  of  the  Desert,  why 
should  that  name  be  the  choice  for  me  ?  And  of  all  the 
growing  things,  why  should  you  bring  the  one  on  which 
the  butterfly  slept?  O,  you  think  me  deranged!  You 
cannot  know  what  the  white  butterfly  has  meant  in 
my  dreams;  you  never  dream,  because  you  so  seldom 
sleep ! " 

The  afterglow  was  flaring  its  rose  tints  where  the 
blues  and  grays  had  been,  and  as  she  sank  on  her  knees 
beside  the  little  memory  shrine  the  reflected  light  gave 
her  the  unreal  glamour  of  the  mysterious.  Movi 
touched  my  hand. 

"  At  shrines  one  must  not  weep,"  she  said,  and  Sancha 
heard  her. 

"  I  do  not  weep,  I  only  remember,"  she  said,  "  and 
this  place  of  the  shrine  is  not  now  a  place  lightly 
thought  of.  It  is  made  here  to  my  Saint  of  the  Impos 
sible,  for  the  impossible  has  come  in  the  deserts  where 
I  have  been  protected  by  her  care.  It  is  right  I  should 
leave  a  memory  of  that  on  the  trail,  and  what  place  so 


316     THE    HOUSE    OF   THE    DAWN 

fit?  The  mesa  itself  is  as  a  great  throne  or  altar  place. 
You  are  right ;  the  incense  is  on  every  side,  and  strange 
it  is  that  such  fragrance  should  be  rooted  in  the  crevice 
of  the  great  rock." 

"  The  fragrance  lasts  through  the  years,"  said  Tris 
tan.  "Will  you  take  a  branch?  It  may  survive  the 
journey." 

She  took  that  which  he  offered,  but  after  a  moment 
laid  it  on  the  little  shrine  of  stone,  and  lifted  a  bit  of 
that  on  which  the  butterfly  had  rested. 

"  This  will  go  with  me,"  she  said.  "  And  now  come 
away  quickly.  I  want  to  go  while  its  wings  yet  make 
beauty  on  the  yellow  bloom." 

We  walked  in  silence  along  the  mesa  and  saw  the 
shadows  changing  and  deepening  while  the  moon  gave 
silvery  light  on  the  gray  sage. 

At  the  head  of  the  stone  steps  she  stood  last,  and  he 
beside  her. 

"  It  is  strange,"  she  said,  "  how  dreams  are  dreamed, 
and  vows  are  made,  and  we  drift  far,  but  a  vow  made 
must  be  kept  even  in  places  strange  as  this  —  the  saints 
who  guard  us  bring  it  to  be." 

"  That  is  often  true,"  he  said. 

"  I  am  glad  it  was  here,"  she  added  as  she  looked  back 
over  the  exalted  and  lonely  height.  "  Never  shall  I  see 
it  again  —  but  it  will  not  be  forgotten." 

Our  silent  guard  stood  by  the  ancient  shrine  of  the 
pass  as  we  went  up  the  trail,  and  looking  back,  I  could 
see  him  follow  in  the  twilight.  He  did  not  speak  even 
to  Movi,  his  sister. 


CHAPTER  XVIII 
THE  CANON  OF  THE  DIVINE  ONES 

WHEN  the  herald  star  of  morning  shone  over 
the  mesa  of  the  east,  we  descended  to  the 
plain,  and  shadowy  forms  sped  beside  us. 
It  was  a  silent  group,  strangely  silent. 

Movi  had  wept  at  our  going,  and  in  the  house  of  her 
father,  Hongovi,  there  had  been  no  sleep.  Her  brother 
told  Padre  de  Vallada  the  route  we  would  go,  and  he 
gave  us  perfunctory  blessing,  taking  his  own  trail  to 
Oriabe. 

We  had  scarce  left  the  foot  of  the  mesa  when  I  noted 
we  were  going  north  instead  of  east.  Tristan  observed 
it,  and  spoke  to  Wisti. 

"  It  is  so,"  he  said.  "  It  is  better  you  go  where  no 
enemy  waits  on  the  trail." 

"  We  make  no  enemies,  for  we  are  friends  with  all," 
insisted  Tristan. 

"  So  says  my  father  in  council,  and  so  it  is  I  who 
journey  by  your  side  for  your  happiness,"  said  Wisti 
briefly,  and  he  bade  us  not  spare  our  horses  the  first 
day  —  for  the  first  day  was  a  trial. 

His  father  ran  beside  our  horses,  and  when  we 
reached  high  places  would  ever  pause  to  look  back  over 
the  trail.  We  were  riding  away  from  the  strange 
mesas,  and  into  a  land  of  rolling  hills  and  trees ;  flower 


3i8     THE    HOUSE    OF   THE    DAWN 

carpeted  plains  and  arroyos  between.  At  a  curious  red 
cliff  where  there  were  cavelike  openings  suggesting 
windows  we  halted,  and  found  there  some  of  the 
Navajos  who  had  left  Walpi  before  sunset.  Wisti 
showed  gladness  at  sight  of  them,  as  did  the  older  men. 

"  Now  it  is  over,"  said  Wisti.  "  Men  of  Oriabe  will 
not  follow  into  this  land  if  your  trail  is  with  Navajo." 

And  that  was  the  first  I  suspected  that  our  comrades 
were  along  to  guard  us  from  some  of  their  own  tribe! 

"  It  is  so,"  insisted  our  guide.  "  They  went  away 
from  Walpi,  but  not  to  home.  They  wait  for  you  in 
the  canon  of  Motsovi,  for  they  were  jealous  of  the 
horses.  Their  thought  was  that  our  tribe  should  have 
these  horses  and  not  the  Rio  Bravo  men." 

I  wondered  how  much  Tristan  suspected,  but  he  was 
ahead  with  Sancha,  exchanging  greeting  with  the 
Navajo.  We  made  a  halt  at  the  nearest  place  of  water, 
and  all  ate  together,  and  when  it  was  over,  Hongovi, 
the  father  of  Movi,  smoked,  and  then  spoke. 

"  When  the  tornado  comes,  and  levels  all  standing 
things,  it  gives  the  warning  of  thunder  and  shakes 
the  earth.  I  am  your  friend,  and  the  Dawn  and  the 
Day  hear  me.  Go  you  back  to  the  south  and  live.  That 
is  the  little,  far-off  trembling  of  the  air  for  you  as  warn 
ing.  I  am  your  friend." 

"  I  also  am  friend,"  said  Tristan,  "  but  to  the  south 
I  may  not  go.  If  the  trail  is  closed  to  the  east,  then  I 
will  find  my  way  back  to  your  clan  where  my  friend 
is." 

"  That  is  good,"  was  the  answer.  "  But  my  son  goes 
with  you.  It  is  his  work.  If  there  is  life  for  you,  he 
will  help  you  to  it.  But  if  death  finds  you  where  I  say 


CANON   OF  THE   DIVINE   ONES  319 

not  to  go,  then  not  again  may  I,  your  father,  smoke 
with  you  on  earth." 

"  That  may  be  so,"  assented  Tristan,  "  for  after  the 
ride  to  Santa  Fe  my  trail  is  covered  by  a  cloud,  and  I 
have  no  light  by  which  to  see." 

Sancha  looked  at  him  strangely,  with  something  like 
fear  in  her  face.  It  was  the  first  time  she  had  thought 
of  him  as  going  out  of  our  lives,  and  my  own  heart 
shook.  I  had  striven  with  myself  against  thought  of 
that  which  I  knew  must  come. 

"  There  are  high  places  of  refuge  where  the  Dawn 
may  bring  you  Light,"  said  the  old  Indio,  "  for  this, 
my  son  goes  with  you  on  the  trail.  But  these  —  the 
friends  you  love  —  send  in  haste  back  to  their  homes 
that  they  may  live,  and  remember  me  —  Hongovi." 

"  That  I  will  surely  strive  to  do,"  promised  Tris 
tan,  and  then  smiled  and  glanced  at  us.  "  But  these, 
Hongovi,  are  very  exalted  people  in  their  own  land; 
I  but  serve  them  on  the  way,  yet  have  no  rule  for  them 
at  the  end  of  the  trails." 

"  Make  rules,  if  they  are  dear  to  you.  I  have  spoken," 
said  the  chief,  and  then  he,  with  his  comrades,  bade  us 
farewell  and  turned  back,  and  we  journeyed  on  with 
Wisti  and  the  Navajo.  We  had  to  wait  at  a  village  of 
theirs  by  a  river  while  the  men  sought  out  a  safe  cross 
ing,  for  the  quicksand  made  it  a  place  of  danger  for 
horses. 

So  the  night  was  spent  there  where  the  curious 
hogans,  or  huts,  were  built  of  brushwood  and  clay,  and 
had  a  mean  appearance  after  the  high  place  of  Walpi 
above  the  sands. 

But  the  people  were  tall  and  finely  made,  and  were 


320      THE    HOUSE    OF    THE    DAWN 

kindly  disposed  to  us.  Sancha  noted  that  their  infants 
were  wrapped  in  the  fine  inner  bark  of  the  hernava 
shrub,  which  was  soft  as  moss  and  sweetly  odorous. 
The  fragrance  of  that  shrub  stays  with  me  strangely 
like  mingled  cedar  and  rose,  and  while  I  saw  it  many 
times  on  the  trail,  I  only  think  of  it  as  I  saw  it  first, 
—  where  it  served  as  incense  for  the  shrine  on  that 
mesa  mysteriously  beautiful. 

Sancha  wore  her  Indian  dress,  but  her  hair  was 
braided  and  a  wreath  of  leaves  served  as  shield  from 
the  sun.  Wisti  talked  to  us  freely  now  that  duty  or 
ceremony  did  not  seal  his  lips,  and  noting  the  interest 
of  Sancha  in  the  women  and  little  children,  he  came  to 
tell  us  that  there  was  to  be  a  marriage  of  the  daughter 
of  one  of  their  men  of  importance;  for  that  reason  had 
the  relatives  hastened  back  from  Walpi,  and  there 
would  be  a  feast. 

The  little  bride  —  for  she  was  very  young  —  looked 
with  shy  smiles  at  Sancha,  evidently  honored  that 
strangers  from  afar  were  guests.  There  was  a  fire, 
and  a  special  vessel  of  food,  and  there  was  neither 
priest  nor  other  official  —  only  the  man  and  the  maid, 
the  robe  and  the  dish,  and  their  relatives  around  them 
in  a  circle.  Over  the  shoulders  of  the  maid  the  man 
placed  the  robe,  and  seated  himself  in  silence  beside 
her. 

I  endeavored  to  make  some  jest  as  to  the  lack  of 
ceremony,  but  Sancha  rebuked  me. 

"  After  all,  what  matter?  "  she  asked.  "  Can  you  not 
see  that  they  are  fond?  Could  the  words  of  a  bishop 
make  them  more  so?" 

What  I  began  to  say  in  comment  I  did  not  say,  for 


CANON    OF   THE   DIVINE   ONES  321 

Tristan  had  entered  silently  and  stood  by  the  door,  and 
at  her  words  I  saw  him  for  the  first  time  off  guard, 
and  gazing  at  her  with  half  at  least  of  his  heart  in 
his  eyes. 

Sancha,  looking  up,  saw  him,  and  what  she  read  there 
made  her  own  face  change.  In  like  fashion  had  he 
clothed  her  in  the  southern  desert !  A  long  instant  their 
eyes  met  in  strange  steadiness,  but  while  his  face 
looked  gray  in  the  light  of  the  hogan  fire,  hers  flamed 
red  and  turned  aside. 

That  shadowy  hogan,  with  its  circle  of  dark  pagans, 
was  a  strange  place  for  a  revelation  of  soul.  I  scarcely 
breathed,  and  all  our  little  world  stood  still,  only  the 
eyes  of  those  two  spoke. 

Then  the  Indian  lover  took  from  the  side  of  the 
dish  some  of  the  food,  and  offered  the  dish  to  the  bride. 
Her  hand  took  food  carefully  from  the  same  side,  and 
together  they  ate,  and  later  drank  from  the  same  cup 
in  the  presence  of  their  respective  clans,  and  the  cere 
mony  ended. 

"  If  the  simple  form  has  your  approval,  you  scarce 
could  improve  on  that,"  I  ventured,  in  attempt  to  lift 
the  strange  chill  fallen  on  all  three  of  us;  but  Sancha 
stated  coldly  that  it  was  time  for  sleep,  and  walked 
past  me  out  into  the  night.  There  was  nothing  for  me 
but  to  follow,  and  Tristan  was  left  to  make  a  more 
ceremonious  withdrawal.  We  found  the  bed  for 
Sancha  already  prepared,  of  high  piled  sage  branches 
with  her  monk's  robe  over  it,  and  she  dropped  down 
there  and  covered  her  face  with  one  of  the  sleeves. 

"  All  my  life  I  should  keep  this  robe  to  humble  my 
pride,  and  remind  me  of  my  nakedness,"  she  said  — 


322     THE    HOUSE    OF   THE    DAWN 

"  also  to  remind  me  of  other  things !  Sleep  near  me, 
Juanito,  but  waste  no  words  on  me  this  night,  for 
the  day  has  been  over  long." 

The  night  seemed  but  an  hour  of  darkness,  when 
the  hand  of  Tristan  was  on  my  shoulder  and  we  woke 
to  eat  grilled  deer  meat,  and  maize  that  was  parched. 
All  were  ready  for  the  trail  when  he  waked  us. 

We  forded  the  river  ere  the  gray  dawn  had  merged 
into  the  yellow  dawn  of  the  desert,  and  the  four  Navajo 
men  of  Walpi  went  with  us,  well  armed  with  knives, 
arrows,  and  steel  lances.  Already  the  coming  of  Span 
ish  men  had  improved  the  war  implements  of  the 
natives. 

These  men  we  could  not  speak  with  except  by  the 
help  of  Wisti,  though  I  had  more  than  a  little  interest 
in  them.  Often  they  sang  as  they  rode  —  strange 
songs  in  which  sounded  all  the  calls  of  the  wilderness, 
and  Movi  had  told  us  things  of  their  magic  which  kept 
me  as  keen  in  desire  as  had  the  tales  of  the  ceremony 
of  snakes. 

Tristan  only  smiled  with  his  usual  patience  when  I 
would  have  asked  of  their  great  healing  by  prayer  and 
songs,  but  would  not  allow  me  to  question. 

"  Through  some  especial  courtesy  they  go  with  us 
for  our  safety,  but  it  is  a  mystery  to  me,  and  the  jour 
ney  requires  caution.  I  dare  not  take  risks  as  to  ques 
tion  of  their  religion.  But  at  least  I  can  promise  you 
one  strange  trail  in  their  land  which  inspires  to  much, 
and  it  may  aid  you  to  understand  a  little  of  the  people, 
for  their  legends  are  often  of  it." 

More  than  that  he  did  not  say,  and  when  we  entered 
a  canon  where  water  ran,  and  the  wood  doves  fluttered 


CANON   OF  THE   DIVINE   ONES  323 

ahead  of  us  from  the  stream,  we  were  glad  for  the 
sake  of  all,  yet  gave  it  not  much  thought  until  of  a 
sudden,  huge  walls  shut  us  in,  and  before  us  was  a 
great  spear  of  a  rock  like  the  monument  of  a  giant. 
This  was  where  two  ways  divided,  and  as  we  went  on 
ward  the  spell  of  mystery  and  beauty  lowered  every 
voice,  for  we  were  in  the  true  canon  of  the  Divine  Ones 
as  believed  by  these  people,  and  no  soul  could  journey 
into  the  heart  of  the  land  there  and  view  the  habita 
tions  of  the  ancients  —  stone  walled  under  roofs  of  great 
rock  ledges  —  and  fail  to  feel  the  spirit  of  awe  breath 
ing  there.  The  age  of  it,  and  the  bigness  of  it,  made 
us  feel  very  little  and  even  weak,  for  the  men  who  had 
built  the  eagle  nests  of  homes  under  eaves  of  gray 
rock  had  been  strong  men  and  their  building  had 
beauty.  The  outer  walls  were  white,  and  the  inner 
walls  of  many  colors  —  pink  of  the  rose,  blue  of  the 
turquoise,  yellow  of  the  sun,  all  these  in  many  tints 
were  there  —  and  strange  designs  of  decoration. 

Before  one  of  these  Sancha  stood  with  curious  re 
gard.  It  was  the  imprint  of  a  woman's  hand  dipped 
in  white  earth  paint,  and  impressed  on  the  smooth 
brown  stone. 

"  It  is  the  hand  of  a  lady,  that,"  she  decided ;  "  see 
the  beauty  of  the  fingers,  slender  as  if  used  only  for 
fine  embroiderings ;  yet  it  would  seem  as  if  she  had 
been  a  worker  in  clay." 

"  Perhaps  not  so,"  ventured  Tristan.  "  This  was  a 
kiva  wall,  a  sanctuary.  Here  are  the  seats  for  council, 
and  there  the  altar  place.  All  the  designs  are  prayer 
symbols,  and  the  mark  of  the  hand  may  be  for  a  vow 
made." 


IS 


324     THE    HOUSE    OF   THE    DAWN 

"  And  long  ago?  " 

"  It  may  be  centuries.  This  is  the  place  so  ancient 
it  is  called  the  home  of  the  gods." 

"  Centuries !  and  the  mark  of  one  woman's  hand 
stands  record  as  if  it  had  been  made  yesterday!" 

"  The  hand  of  a  woman,  though  slender,  may  weigh 
heavily,  Excellencia,"  he  said,  and  she  looked  at  him 
reproachfully. 

"  I  told  you  it  did  not  please  me  to  be  thus  called," 
she  replied,  "  but  this  hand  interests  me.  Then  the 
women  of  these  enchanted  lands  made  vows  as 
today?" 

"  And  broke  them,  as  today  —  it  may  be  so,"  he  said. 
"  Their  hearts  are  as  our  own,  except  that  our  life 
has  given  us  more  cravings  and  arts  than  they  knew." 

"  Do  we  need  more?  "  she  asked  wistfully.  "  I  never 
knew  how  little  ceremony  life  and  happiness  needed 
until  we  found  this  magical  land.  I  wish  I  might  leave 
impress  of  my  own  hand  here  in  record  of  that." 

"Truly?"  I  said,  for  he  only  looked  at  her  as  if 
in  wonder  if  his  ears  had  told  him  aright.  She  did  not 
know  how  much  her  words  had  expressed. 

"  Truly,  Juanito.  These  places  bewitch  me,  so  I 
think.  I  want  to  be  of  them  because  I  feel  the  spirit 
of  them  is  of  beauty.  Have  we  not  passed  many  good 
and  profitable  places  for  dwelling?  And  some  of  to 
day's  people  live  in  them.  But  the  places  of  the 
ancients,  whether  walled  by  their  own  hands,  or  by 
nature,  are  the  places  of  most  wonder  and  beauty  in 
their  world.  Do  you  not  see  it  everywhere?" 

I  had,  but  not  to  spell  it  out  like  that. 

"  Their  ancient  prayers  are  the  same,"  said  Tristan. 


CANON   OF   THE   DIVINE   ONES  325 

"  If  they  came  from  Persia  and  were  in  a  book,  you 
would  learn  them  and  repeat  them  as  poems." 

"  Know  you  any?  "  asked  Sancha. 

He  glanced  below  where  the  Navajo  men  were  rest 
ing,  and  the  horses  were  feeding  on  the  grass  thick  and 
high  at  edge  of  the  stream.  Wisti  was  also  there. 

"  I  know  one  invocation  to  a  sky  god  of  theirs,  but 
this  is  not  a  time  to  repeat  it  in  the  hearing  of  any  of 
them.  Our  priests  have  made  them  distrust  all  our 
interest  in  their  religion." 

"  Say  it  for  me  while  Juanito  stands  guard,"  she 
begged,  and  he  did  so.  It  was  very  long,  and  I  never 
heard  it  all  again,  but  I  recall  the  opening  words  for 
the  reason  that  Sancha  afterwards  chanted  them  as 
we  rode,  and  said  they  made  her  think  of  words  from 
the  Bible  read  by  a  padre  at  the  convent. 

"  Repeat  it  not  to  a  padre  unless  you  are  ready  for 
a  penance,"  said  Tristan  — "  for  this  prayer  is  very 
pagan,  and  is  joyous  in  its  faith." 

O  You! 

Who  dwell 

In  the  House  of  the  Dawn, 

In  the  House  of  the  Evening  Twilight, 

Where  the  Dark  Mist  curtains  the  doorway 

The  path  to  which  is  the  Rainbow! 

Sancha  stood  looking  at  him  in  curious  wonder  as 
he  began  the  prayer  as  Fray  Fernando  had  made  trans 
lation  of  it,  and  when  he  ended  with  the  joyous 

Impervious  to  pain,  I  walk! 
Feeling  light  within,  I  walk! 
With  beauty  before  me,  I  walk. 


326     THE    HOUSE    OF   THE    DAWN 

With  beauty  above  me,  I  walk. 

Happily  may  the  roads  all 

Find  the  way  of  peace, 

And  the  end  of  the  ways  in  beauty! 

Her  hands  were  folded  over  her  breast  and  her  eyes 
closed  as  if  to  shut  out  all  but  the  meaning  or  feeling 
of  the  words.  When  his  voice  was  silent,  she  opened 
her  eyes,  and  put  out  her  hand  to  him,  and  it  was  the 
first  time. 

"  O  You  who  dwell 
In  the  House  of  the  Dawn!  " 

she  said,  and  tried  to  laugh,  but  her  voice  had  a  tremble 
in  it.  "  I  have  heard  their  prayers  are  beautiful,  but 
I  never  knew  how  they  were  beautiful  until  now! 
Were  you  one  time  an  Indian,  Kahn  Alcatraz?  And 
are  you  now  born  on  earth  again  to  teach  us  beauty?  " 

He  looked  at  her  hand.  It  lay  in  his  by  her  own 
wish,  and  he  turned  towards  the  wall  and  spread  her 
hand  there  as  had  been  placed  that  other  hand  of  the 
woman  of  the  ancient  days. 

But  over  Sancha's  he  placed  his  own. 

"  This  of  record  in  the  house  of  many  prayers,"  he 
said.  "  You  are  a  generous  comrade,  Dona  Sancha, 
but  if  the  beauty  were  not  in  your  own  heart  you  would 
not  perceive  it  in  my  poor  chanting  of  their  prayer  to 
heal  ills." 

"And  it  does  heal?" 

"  It  does  heal  —  my  own  eyes  have  seen  that.  Thus 
the  prayer  always  ends  happily,  and  with  blessings  for 
every  one." 


CANON   OF  THE   DIVINE   ONES  327 

"  The  things  of  wonder  I  am  learning ! "  she  mused. 
"  I  wish  I  might  leave  the  mark  of  my  hand  there." 

He  picked  up  a  piece  of  soft  stone,  and  broke  it  to 
a  point  to  which  his  knife  added. 

"  So  slight  a  wish  is  easily  met.  I  would  that  all 
others  of  yours  were  likewise." 

Thus  I  left  them  there  while  he  used  the  soft  spear 
of  stone  as  a  pen,  and  made  for  her  the  outlines  of  her 
hand.  The  last  I  heard  of  their  speech  they  questioned 
writing  her  name  within  the  outlines,  but  decided 
against  it,  and  he  gave  her  an  Indian  symbol  instead 
which  only  she  would  know,  and  marked  it  there.  I 
found  her  marking  the  same  symbol  in  the  sands  when 
we  stopped  to  camp. 

"  But  has  it  a  meaning?  "  I  asked,  for  to  me  it  looked 
not  so  much. 

"  It  has  meanings  —  and  many,"  she  answered  with 
a  pride  in  her  new  knowledge.  "  It  is  the  star  shining 
over  Walpi  when  I  made  the  shrine  to  my  Saint  of 
the  Impossible." 

"  That  star  was  Venus,  and  it  has  a  record  of  its 
own  aside  from  Indian  symbols,"  I  told  her,  but  she 
gave  me  little  heed,  and  went  on  smoothing  the  sand 
and  marking  it,  only  to  smooth  it  again  for  another 
trial. 

From  the  canon  of  the  Divine  Ones  we  emerged 
with  some  difficulties  of  trail  into  a  land  of  pifion  and 
shrubs  and  nodding  blossoms,  then  through  the  grate 
ful  shade  of  pine  forests  where  antelope  nibbled  tender 
grass  in  the  sheltered  places.  Birds  of  many  kinds 
were  seen,  and  I  was  told  that  the  blue  bird  and  the 
eagle  were  each  prized  highly  for  the  feathers  used 


328     THE    HOUSE    OF    THE    DAWN 

in  symbols  of  prayer  —  one  for  its  strength,  and  the 
other  because  it  carries  the  color  of  the  sky  depths 
and  of  deep  waters. 

After  the  forests,  the  Navajo  men  were  more  cau 
tious  on  the  trail,  for  we  passed  through  lands  where 
the  Apaches  ranged,  and  our  party  was  small  to  with 
stand  any  important  band. 

One  nameless  river  we  followed  eastward  towards 
its  source,  and  netted  fish  in  its  many  pools.  To  our 
taste  they  furnished  desirable  feasts  after  the  steady 
meat  foods,  dried  or  fresh,  of  our  desert  living,  but 
not  an  Indio  but  Wisti  would  eat  them.  The  Navajo 
men  had  some  religious  prejudice  against  the  eating  of 
fishes  —  a  myth  of  theirs  gives  some  clans  brother 
hood  with  water  creatures.  So  they  satisfied  them 
selves  with  meat,  and  the  wild  batata  growing  in  that 
land  and  baked  in  the  ashes  of  the  night  fires.  We  also 
ate  it  with  the  fish,  and  there  were  many  wild  berries 
in  canons  where  water  was.  Thus  we  fared  well,  and 
on  more  variety  than  in  the  lands  of  the  Pimaria. 
Also  the  animals  we  rode  were  the  better  of  running 
water  and  rich  grasses. 

In  all  this  journey,  Tristan  had  sought  in  vain  to 
learn  from  Wisti  the  reason  of  the  warning  of  Hongovi. 
But  Wisti  confessed  that  he  himself  did  not  know; 
also  that  his  heart  was  troubled  about  it,  for  it  was 
no  little  thing.  He  was  sure  of  that  by  the  orders 
given  him,  but  the  orders  he  dare  not  tell.  And  finally, 
on  his  own  account,  he  begged  that  Tristan  act  on  the 
bidding  of  Hongovi,  and  linger  not  at  all  in  either 
Sante  Fe,  or  north  of  the  great  lava  beds. 

"Is  it  for  me  alone  there  is  a  danger?"  asked  Tris- 


CJ 


CANON   OF   THE   DIVINE   ONES  329 

tan  with  the  thought  of  the  long  route  he  had  come 
north  to  avoid  traders,  and  the  shorter  route  of  the 
east  by  which  messenger  of  either  the  Holy  Office  or 
the  State  might  have  borne  word  in  advance. 

But  it  was  plain  that  Wisti  knew  naught  of  special 
trouble  for  Tristan;  he  stated  that  none  of  the  younger 
men  knew :  it  was  a  thing  in  the  hearts  of  the  old  men, 
and  it  might  be  that  one  of  them  had  a  vision.  Wisti 
thought  that  must  be  so,  and  visions  are  very  sacred 
things. 

Then  came  the  day  when  a  thing  of  importance  was 
met  on  the  trail,  a  spring  where  there  were  tracks  of 
sheep  —  many  sheep,  and  one  lone  burro  —  plainly  we 
had  reached  the  edge  of  a  Spanish  range  where  some 
lone  herder  moved  up  and  down  the  land  with  his 
flock. 

The  Navajo  looked  with  sharp  eyes  over  all  the 
ground,  and  affirmed  this,  then  said  they  would  go 
back  to  their  clans,  for  we  would  now  be  safe  with 
our  own  people. 

Wisti  urged  them  to  continue  to  the  villages  of  the 
Jemez  and  there  was  considerable  argument  concern 
ing  the  matter.  It  seemed  that  the  Jemez  and  Navajo 
had  twice  fought  together  to  overthrow  the  white  men 
and  failed,  and  after  that  they  drew  apart  and  the 
Jemez  men  were  suspected  of  stealing  Navajo  girls 
and  selling  them  as  slaves  to  the  Spanish. 

Sancha  was  affronted,  yet  curious  as  to  the  purchase 
of  Indian  maids  by  the  Christians,  and  was  very  cer 
tain  the  padres  had  no  knowledge  of  the  traffic.  But 
Wisti  told  her  that  when  a  young  Spaniard  married, 
it  was  a  custom  to  present  at  least  one  slave  girl  to 


330     THE    HOUSE    OF   THE    DAWN 

his  bride,  and  if  the  Spaniard  could  not  steal  one,  he 
had  to  buy  her.  It  was  a  common  matter  in  the 
settlements,  and  young  men  who  wished  to  marry 
sometimes  banded  together  and  went  on  a  hunt  for 
women  as  gifts  to  their  promised  brides. 

It  was  at  the  breakfast  time  these  things  were  talked 
of,  and  the  Navajo  said  they  would  go  beside  us  one 
more  day.  Tristan  did  no  persuading,  but  was  con 
tent  to  have  them.  He  felt  safe  now  as  to  Sancha, 
for  in  Jemez  he  was  known,  and  as  we  rode  along  to 
gether  he  told  me  he  had  painted  for  them  some  of  the 
god  beings  they  had  described  to  Don  Fernando.  They 
deemed  painting  great  magic,  and  had  shown  him 
special  friendship.  For  this  reason  he  felt  that,  if  need 
be,  he  could  secure  us  a  safe  guard  in  case  he  should 
part  from  our  trail  ere  reaching  Santa  Fe.  I  did  not 
welcome  that  prospect,  so  made  no  mention  of  it  to 
Sancha.  She  had  grown  very  quiet  after  the  sheep 
trail,  and  the  evidence  that  at  last,  after  living  through 
the  impossible  things,  she  was  again  on  the  border  land 
of  her  own  people. 

And  when  the  shadows  began  to  lengthen  that  day 
we  saw  on  a  far  hillside  the  moving  mass  of  wool 
bearers  spread  like  a  creeping  blanket  over  the  green, 
and  a  shepherd  dog  gave  warning  to  the  herder  that 
strangers  were  abroad. 

The  herder  was  a  Jemez  Indio  in  camp  by  a  spring, 
and  part  of  a  freshly  killed  sheep  hung  to  a  tree  limb. 
The  man  looked  at  us,  startled  and  uneasy,  and  asked 
Wisti  if  the  Navajo  men  were  after  women.  Even 
when  told  no,  he  continued  to  give  us  careful  regard 
not  free  from  suspicion. 


CANON   OF  THE  DIVINE   O  N  E  S  331 

But  he  was  generous  of  both  meat  and  water,  and 
cuts  were  broiling  on  the  coals  before  the  saddles  were 
off,  and  after  he  had  been  assured  that  Sancha  had 
come  the  incredible  trail,  and  that  we  were  her  guard, 
he  opened  his  mouth,  and  told  the  thing  of  his  fear. 

He  was  all  alone,  and  had  his  sheep  to  guard,  and 
on  no  account,  and  for  nothing,  could  he  leave  them, 
and  he  did  not  want  that  the  Navajo  men  should  hold 
him  to  blame,  but  the  facts  were  as  follows : 

The  sheep  had  been  killed  at  this  place  because  other 
company  had  been  with  him.  He  would  not  give 
names,  but  it  was  three  Castilian  men,  and  they  had 
come  from  the  south  and  had  captured  two  girls.  The 
girls  were  Navajo,  and  he  thought  they  would  camp 
early,  for  they  had  traveled  fast  and  their  horses  were 
wet.  At  first  sight  he  thought  we  were  on  their  trail. 
His  own  tribe  had  been  blamed  often  for  the  stealing 
of  Navajo  women  when  it  was  indeed  the  white  men 
who  took  them,  and  he  thought  this  was  not  a  time  for 
neighbor  tribes  to  be  enemies  to  each  other  because  of 
acts  of  the  white  men. 

Wisti  watched  him  with  sharp  eyes  like  black  beads 
when  he  said  this. 

"  This  is  a  true  thing,"  he  said  — "  also  my  father 
who  is  Hangovi  of  Walpi  tells  me  this  is  the  time  when 
the  tribes  should  be  friends  and  brothers." 

"  Your  father  is  wise,"  said  the  shepherd,  "  for  it  is 
the  time." 

And  the  two  men  who  were  of  different  tribes,  and 
unknown  to  each  other,  exchanged  looks  of  import,  and 
said  no  more. 

The  Navajo  men  talked  apart  with  each  other,  and 


332      THE    HOUSE    OF   THE    DAWN 

then  decided.  The  horses  were  tired,  but  those  of  the 
white  men  were  in  no  better  condition  according  to 
the  shepherd.  Their  plan  was  to  ride  down  the  thieves, 
kill  the  men  and  take  the  women. 

"  But  if  the  women  can  be  bargained  for  without 
battle,  would  that  not  be  the  better  way? "  asked 
Tristan. 

They  agreed  it  would  be  the  safer  way,  for  the 
Spanish  had  firing  pieces  —  yet  they  doubted  any  bar 
gain.  Navajo  girls  were  much  desired.  Also  to  bar 
gain  would  give  time  for  the  raiders  to  plan  escape. 

"  If  we  are  friends  let  me  do  a  brother's  part  in  this," 
said  Tristan.  "  I  will  demand  the  girls  as  your  right. 
If  they  are  not  given,  my  own  arms  will  be  for  your 
service  —  this  because  you  have  been  faithful  in  spirit 
to  poor  wayfarers  who  can  make  no  other  return." 

"  The  Divine  Ones  have  at  times  come  to  earth  as 
poor  wayfarers,"  was  the  reply  they  made,  "  and  men 
who  have  helped  them  fell  heir  to  blessings.  We  will 
do  as  you  say.  You  are  our  friend." 

Sancha  was  troubled  over  it  all,  for  the  wise  and 
lawful  and  Christian  thing  was  of  course  to  carry  the 
tale  to  Santa  Fe  where  the  church  or  the  governor 
would  decide  for  justice,  and  the  women  would  be  sent 
home  safely  to  their  clans. 

"With  whom  would  they  be  sent?"  asked  Tristan 
but  of  course  she  could  not  say. 

"  The  only  safe  guides  are  these  men  with  us,"  he 
said,  "  even  if  they  were  sent  from  the  town,  which 
is  not  a  thing  to  hope  for  —  they  would  be  sold  or  traded 
to  pueblos  on  the  trail,  and  would  never  see  their  own 
people  again." 


CANON   OF  THE   DIVINE   ONES  333 

"  But  —  with  you  to  speak  for  them?" 

"  I,  as  I  told  you,  am  but  a  brother  of  the  Desert,  a 
poor  wayfarer,  and  my  word  of  little  import  with  dig 
nitaries,"  he  made  reply.  "  We  like  little  enough  to 
plan  for  troubles  while  you  are  of  our  care,  but  if 
speech  fail,  then  the  women  must  be  taken  by  force  of 
arms.  We  are  enough." 

Meat  was  cooked  while  we  ate,  and  was  then 
wrapped  in  leaves  and  lashed  well  to  our  saddles  that 
we  need  not  halt  for  food  on  the  way.  The  shepherd 
told  us  the  best  trail,  and  the  springs,  and  passes  of 
the  hills,  and  we  rode  on  in  the  long  shadows  of  the 
late  day. 

"  I  know  now  how  it  was  when  you  took  the  trail  to 
rescue  me,"  said  Sancha  riding  beside  Tristan.  But  he 
looked  at  her  with  the  wonderful  smile  in  his  eyes. 

"  No,  Dona  Sancha,  you  do  not  know,"  he  said,  and 
she  did  not  argue,  but  rode  on  beside  him  into  the 
rose  and  gold  and  azure  lights  of  the  highland  sky. 

The  rose  and  gold  was  cloaked  in  the  blue  mists  of 
twilight,  and  the  stars  came  out,  and  still  we  rode  on. 
Wisti  was  far  ahead  on  the  trail  leaving  signs  for  us 
to  follow,  halting  at  times  until  we  came  near,  and 
using  every  caution  that  we  not  ride  close  on  the 
quarry,  and  startle  them  ere  their  camp  was  made. 

And  at  the  last,  when  the  night  was  late,  and  all 
well  wearied,  Wisti  stood  in  our  path,  and  pointed 
far  down  where  a  glimmer  of  light  shone. 

"  They  have  reached  the  camp  of  a  Jemez  hunter 
who  goes  for  the  sacred  eagles,"  he  stated.  "  He  has  a 
cage  with  the  young  eaglets,  and  the  fire  is  his  fire,  there 
the  three  men  have  stopped,  and  the  girls  are  there." 


334     THE    HOUSE    OF    THE    DAWN 

"  Then  it  means  one  more  native  man  to  help  against 
the  raiders,"  I  ventured,  but  Tristan  was  not  so  sure. 

"  Slavery  is  sanctioned  in  high  places  if  it  is  prop 
erly  cloaked  and  named,"  he  said.  "  It  is  called  bring 
ing  in  converts  for  the  glory  of  God,  and  the  pueblos 
have  it  drilled  into  them  as  a  just  affair.  Thus  there 
is  no  telling  where  the  eagle  catcher  may  stand  in  a 
dispute." 

We  left  our  horses  and  crept  forward.  Sancha  still 
wore  the  Indian  garb,  but  Tristan  unstrapped  her  robe 
and  gave  it  to  me  to  carry.  The  way  was  steep  and 
movement  slow,  with  every  caution  used  against  the 
starting  of  rolling  stone  down  the  canon  wall.  And 
it  was  Tristan  who  led  Sancha  by  the  hand  through 
the  dark  of  the  Indian  trail. 

The  glint  of  fire  was  on  a  plateau  where  the  forest 
hid  it  as  we  reached  the  level,  but  Wisti  never  wav 
ered  in  direction,  and  led  us  between  the  pines  until 
we  reached  a  thick  scrub  where  young  growth  made  a 
jungle.  We  could  hear  voices  there,  yet  see  no  one. 

There  were  no  words  among  us.  Tristan  on  the 
way  had  used  all  needed  speech.  Now  he  put  the  robe 
about  Sancha  and  put  her  hand  in  mine,  and  we  all 
moved  forward  quietly  until  we  could  hear  the  words, 
good  Spanish  words  from  well-content  rangers  —  and 
the  first  name  spoken  clearly  was  that  of  Marco  de 
Ordono ! 

Sancha  gripped  my  hand,  and  I  know  Tristan  laid 
his  hand  on  her  shoulder  for  silence. 

"  Let  Governor  Otermin  give  him  lieutenant's  rank 
for  his  pretty  face  and  his  name !  "  said  one  man.  "  All 
that  favor  would  fail  to  get  him  in  on  a  hunt  again 


CANON   OF  THE   DIVINE   ONES  335 

with  me!  He  took  the  girl  who  by  right  belonged  to 
Roberto  here,  and  for  that  reason  we  have  to  make 
another,  and  a  more  distant  raid,  before  Roberto's 
favorita  will  go  to  the  priest  with  him." 

"  O,  Dolores  would  go  with  me,"  said  Roberto  with 
a  certain  pride,  "  but  who  wants  his  wife  to  have  not 
even  one  woman  to  start  the  home  with?  But  I  owe 
Ordofio  for  that  trick.  The  girl  had  beauty." 

"  For  that  reason  was  Ordono's  claim  made,"  said 
the  first  speaker,  and  laughed.  "  He  has  a  trained  eye 
of  his  own.  They  tell  that  the  girl  he  left  in  the  Pima 
land  was  also  a  beauty  —  and  white." 

"  True,  but  no  one  has  dared  tell  the  Don  Antonio 
of  it.  White  women  are  all  too  scarce,  and  even  Oter- 
min  might  have  frowned  on  that." 

"  He  did  not  frown  on  him  when  he  bore  back  the 
Navajo  girl  I  should  have  had,"  grumbled  Roberto, 
"  also  De  Ordono  had  no  need  of  serving  woman,  as 
there  was  no  marriage  day  set  for  him." 

"  I  thought  the  girl  was  Jemez  —  that  pretty  Marta," 
said  the  third  man,  "  she  is  slender  as  a  red  lily,  and 
worth  more  money  than  a  mere  drudge." 

"  She  had  a  Navajo  mother.  It  is  the  mixed  blood 
gives  the  better  grace,"  stated  Roberto.  "  These  two 
we  have  here  will  give  good  service  to  the  house, .and 
no  fine  gentleman  of  rank  will  come  our  way  to  covet 
them." 

There  was  laughter  at  this,  so  we  could  guess  the 
captives  were  not  too  well  favored.  They  had  ended 
their  supper,  and  began  to  speak  of  who  should  stand 
first  guard  of  the  night,  when  Tristan  said  very 
quietly. 


336     THE    HOUSE    OF   THE    DAWN 

"Senors!" 

There  was  a  movement,  and  then  a  voice. 

"Who  speaks?" 

"  A  Castilian,"  answered  Tristan,  and  walked  through 
the  tassels  of  the  young  pine  until  he  stood  beyond 
its  close  knit,  though  narrow,  barrier. 

"  Life  of  my  soul ! "  said  the  one  called  Roberto, 
"  you  suggest  the  devil  rather  than  a  padre  bobbing  up 
from  the  earth  in  this  hell  of  a  canon.  Whence  come 
you?" 

"From  Hopi  land." 

"  It  is  a  strange  way  of  meeting,"  said  the  other 
voice,  "  and  strangers  in  New  Granada  are  mysteri 
ous  to  all.  Will  you  favor  us  with  your  name,  Sefior 
priest?" 

"  My  name  is  Kahn  Alcatraz,  and  my  business  you 
will  not  approve,  though  I  come  in  all  honesty  to  save 
your  lives,  and  it  may  be,  your  souls." 

The  hand  of  Sancha  gripped  mine  in  breathless  ten 
sion,  for  it  was  a  weird  time  there  in  the  thick  pines 
where  the  odor  enveloped  us  as  a  veil,  and  we  stood, 
hearing  words,  yet  having  sight  of  no  one ;  only  the 
firelight  flared  on  branches  of  trees  high  above. 

There  was  silence  for  a  space  after  his  words,  and 
then  a  man  laughed. 

"  Surely,  padre,  always  are  you  after  souls  and  lives, 
but  it  is  a  curious  place  to  seek  them.  We  are  all  safe 
Christians  here,  unless  it  be  this  catcher  of  eaglets, 
yet  he  has  been  civil  enough." 

"  It  is  the  trappers  of  other  eaglets  with  whom  I 
came  to  deal,"  said  Tristan.  "  The  tribesmen  of  these 
maids  are  here  to  guard  them  back  to  their  clans." 


CANON   OF   THE   DIVINE   ONES  337 

"By  all  the  saints!" 

"  Senor,"  said  Tristan.    "  I  have  evidence,  Juan !  " 

At  that  I  let  go  of  Sancha,  and  went  through  the 
jungle  into  the  light. 

"  This,  Senors,  is  Senor  Don  Juan  Rivera,  and  is 
nephew  to  the  Reverend  Fray  Payo,  late  Viceroy  of 
Mexico,  and  of  power  in  both  church  and  state.  The 
reports  of  the  capture  of  women  for  barter  have  not 
been  made  special  record  of  in  this  province,  but  after 
today  it  may  be  done,  if  Don  Juan  here  has  a  mind 
for  it.  This  is  our  side,  the  Spanish  side.  But  the 
Indio  side  of  the  question  is  a  different  matter.  Unless 
you  go  home  at  once,  and  leave  these  girls  and  the 
horses  on  which  you  brought  them  here,  you  will  never 
go  to  Santa  Fe  alive." 

"You  threaten  us?" 

"  No,  I  only  tell  you.  I  will  call  my  interpreter  and 
he  can  bring  two  of  the  Navajo  warriors  to  show  you 
that  men  are  here  for  these  women.  Wisti ! " 

Afterwards  Sancha  confessed  she  sank  to  the  ground 
in  terror  at  the  going  of  Wisti.  She  had  never  known 
how  close  he  seemed  to  us  until  he  spoke  to  the  Navajo, 
and  they  followed  me  into  the  circle  of  light. 

And  a  grim  trio  it  was  who  faced  those  wonder 
struck  raiders,  the  Navajo  men  seemed  to  loom  more 
tall,  and  Wisti  stepped  forward  lightly  as  a  cat,  and 
smiling.  There  was  something  curious  in  that  smile. 
The  Hopi  have  disdain  of  anger  for  any  reason  what 
ever,  as  it  is  evidence  of  lack  of  control,  but  to  myself 
I  thought  I  would  rather  face  an  angry  man  than 
the  smiling  devil  he  betrayed  himself. 

"  I  bring  only  two,  Senor.    If  the  women  are  given 


338     THE    HOUSE    OF    THE    DAWN 

back,  I  bring  no  more  than  two.  They  have  no  Cas- 
tilian  words.  I  speak  for  them." 

At  sight  of  the  Navajo,  the  eagle  catcher,  a  man  not 
old,  but  with  gray  in  his  hair,  stood  up  beside  his  eagle 
cage,  and  spoke  a  few  quick  words;  one  of  the  Navajo 
nodded  his  head,  and  the  eagle  catcher,  with  his  lance 
and  axe,  and  bow,  stepped  across  the  little  circle  of 
light  and  stood  beside  them,  and  the  two  crouching 
Navajo  women  turned  from  one  to  the  other  with 
smiles. 

"  You  see,  Senors,"  said  Tristan,  "  thus  it  will  be 
on  the  trail.  Each  Indio  will  stand  with  these  men, 
and  I  can  not  say  the  word  to  save  you  after  you 
move  out  of  the  light  of  this  fire.  Also  it  will  not 
be  long  I  can  save  you  even  here.  Look  in  the  faces 
of  these  men  and  see." 

He  could  well  say  that,  for  they  were  like  bronze 
animals,  still  and  poised  to  spring,  four  of  them. 
Roberto  tried  bravado. 

"  I  see,  but  they  have  none  but  savage  arms,  while 
we  Castilians  —  with  you  and  Senor  Rivera  to  aid  —  " 

"  Yes,"  agreed  Tristan,  "  but  Senor  Rivera  and  I  have 
another  task.  We  may  not  aid  you." 

"  What  is  your  task  that  you  would  not  aid  a  Chris 
tian  against  savage  murderers?" 

There  was  a  moment  of  pause,  as  Tristan  looked  at 
me,  and  it  was  I  who  spoke. 

"  We  are  a  part  of  the  body  guard  of  a  lady  of  rank, 
Senors,  the  Marquesa  de  Llorente  y  Rivera  and  niece 
of  the  former  archbishop  and  viceroy  of  Mexico.  I 
think,  Senors,  you  will  agree  it  is  the  right  time  to  give 
up  the  captives,  and  not  risk  the  word  her  Excellency 


CANON   OF   THE   DIVINE   ONES  339 

may  carry  to  Governor  Antonio  Otermin  of  New 
Granada." 

The  men  stared  at  us,  and  then  looked  foolishly  at 
each  other. 

"  If  it  is  a  game,  it  is  a  good  one,"  said  one  of  the 
men,  "  but  it  will  take  more  than  a  priest's  robe,  and 
some  titles  to  make  us  believe  that,  and  no  offense 
to  you  either!  Since  there  are  six  of  you  in  sight,  to 
our  three,  and  the  devil  only  knows  how  many  more 
around  us !  —  it  is  wisdom  to  let  the  women  go.  But 
for  myself,  I  have  a  fancy  to  see  this  exalted  lady  who 
comes  through  these  hills  of  the  wilderness.  It  would 
be  worth  the  price  of  two  red  women  —  if  true !  " 

I  looked  at  Tristan  for  some  sign  of  wisdom,  but 
ere  either  of  us  spoke,  I  heard  the  quick  stepping  of 
Sancha,  heedless  now  of  the  noise  she  made.  The  three 
incredulous  stared  at  that  wall  of  green  as  if  demons 
were  using  it  as  a  nest  of  iniquity  for  their  undoing, 
and  when  I  saw  them  lift  their  hats  and  sweep  the 
ground,  I  knew  without  turning  my  head,  that  she 
emerged  into  the  light. 

"  My  cousin,  Don  Juan,  and  Sefior  Alcatraz  are  in 
the  right  of  this,  Senors,"  she  said  very  bravely.  "  I 
claim  these  women,  and  if  you  have  complaint,  I  beg 
that  you  make  it  to  Governor  Otermin  of  Santa  Fe. 
For  the  advice  given  you  by  Senor  Alcatraz,  I  will  take 
responsibility.  There  has  been  no  desire  to  threaten 
—  only  it  is  fair  to  show  you  the  thing  to  happen  if 
you  refuse.  We  are  only  three  white  persons  among 
our  Indian  friends.  To  control  them  might  prove  a 
task  beyond  us." 

"  Excellencia,"   said   Roberto   promptly,   "  you   need 


340      THE    HOUSE    OF   THE    DAWN 

give  no  command  twice,  and  if  you  care  to  add  to  your 
white  guard,  I  am  at  your  service." 

"  My  thanks,  but  I  have  no  orders.  Senor  Kahn 
Alcatraz  gives  all  commands,  and  it  well  that  you  re 
member  you  would  have  died  somewhere  between  these 
canon  walls  tomorrow,  but  for  his  word  tonight." 

"  Little  danger  we  will  forget,"  stated  Roberto  rue 
fully.  "  It  seems  the  devil  himself  is  against  my  wed 
ding  day!  Come,  Ysidro,  what  must  be,  must!  The 
cards  fall  not  our  way,  instead  of  winning  girls,  we 
lose  horses.  Small  use  in  striving  to  wed  and  lead 
a  virtuous  life." 

Even  Sancha  smiled  at  his  idea  of  virtue,  though  she 
was  neither  glad  nor  gay  at  the  bloodless  victory.  It 
seemed  a  matter  of  fate  that  Roberto  should  have  lost 
the  first  girl  through  Marco,  and  the  next  one  by  Sancha. 
And  we  knew  that  the  idle  comment  on  him  made  by 
his  comrades  had  sunk  deep. 

But  she  made  no  sign,  and  stood  there,  a  serene  pic 
ture  in  the  firelight,  while  the  captives  were  unbound, 
and  the  horses  were  separated  for  their  use.  I  had 
become  so  used  to  Sancha  in  the  robe,  or  the  Indian 
dress,  that  my  sense  was  dull  as  to  how  she  must 
appear  to  others,  but  the  regard  of  the  men  was  so 
open,  and  so  amazed  that  one  could  but  note  it.  They 
made  no  comment,  but  her  words  of  authority  scarce 
fitted  her  Indian  garb. 

The  Navajo  men  talked  with  the  women,  who  smiled 
and  were  very  gay  in  their  own  manner,  but  the  eagle 
catcher  stood  apart  listening  to  all  —  saying  nothing. 
His  gaze  followed  Tristan  and  Sancha  in  a  curious, 
watchful  way. 


CANON   OF  THE   DIVINE   ONES  341 

I  asked  Wisti  what  it  was  that  made  the  bond  with 
the  Navajo,  and  was  told  the  eagle  catcher  had  a  Navajo 
wife,  also  that  he  could  understand  Castilian  a  little, 
and  that  the  name  given  him  by  the  priest  was  Manuel. 

There  was  no  time  lost  in  starting  the  raiders  on  the 
trail.  Tristan  told  them  it  was  better  not  to  trust 
the  temper  of  the  Indians  —  it  would  be  a  surety  for 
safety  to  seek  other  sleeping  place.  So  they  took  them 
selves  off,  with  Wisti  and  one  Navajo  to  see  that  they 
made  no  halt  on  that  side  of  the  range,  and  Manuel, 
the  catcher  of  eagles  for  prayer  plumes  to  his  gods, 
stood  guard  while  we  dropped  quickly  asleep  from  utter 
weariness. 

When  I  wakened  there  was  a  cheery  bustle  about  the 
camp.  The  Navajo  women  had  brought  water  from 
the  canon  deeps,  also  berries  in  baskets  of  bark;  meat 
we  had,  and  there  was  fair  show  for  an  appetizing 
breakfast,  but  I  was  the  only  white  person  in  sight 
to  partake  of  it. 

The  sun  was  at  the  edge  of  the  eastern  world,  and 
there  was  flecked  gold  and  rose  over  the  far  black  line 
of  the  pine  forest.  Wisti  still  slept,  and  beside  him 
the  Navajo  who  had,  with  him,  trailed  the  women- 
hunters  well  on  their  way. 

He  wakened  as  I  spoke,  and  asked  a  Navajo  where 
the  master  of  the  camp  had  gone,  and  the  lady  who 
was  their  friend. 

It  was  then  I  noted  that  Manuel  also  was  out  of  sight. 
He  had  stood  the  guard  alone  and  called  no  one  until 
the  dawn,  at  which  time  the  lady  had  wakened,  and 
had  spoken  with  him. 

The  Navajo  said  the  morning  star  was  still  in  sight 


342      THE    HOUSE    OF   THE    DAWN 

at  that  time,  and  that  their  speech  had  been  earnest, 
and  he  thought,  was  of  ancient  prayer  places  in  the 
hills,  for  Manuel  had  pointed  upward  and  used  words 
of  ancient  things.  Then  the  man  who  was  master 
awoke,  and  together  the  three  had  gone  qiuckly  into 
the  forest  as  the  great  star  began  to  fade  in  the  dawn. 
That  was  all  he  knew,  but  Manuel  was  much  their 
friend,  for  the  daughter  of  Manuel  had  been  stolen  by 
woman-hunters  of  some  tribe,  and  he  was  in  search 
wherever  he  found  himself.  Both  Wisti  and  the  Navajo 
had  been  questioned  by  him. 

While  we  talked,  and  all  happily  lent  a  hand  at 
the  simple  breakfast,  we  heard  them  coming  through 
the  pines,  and  Sancha  appeared,  wreathed  like  a  god 
dess  of  dawn  with  pink  roses,  found,  dewy  and  fra 
grant,  near  the  trail. 

"  And,  oh  Juanito ! "  she  breathed  as  in  ecstasy, 
"  to  think  I  have  been  shown  the  wonder  place  of  all 
our  many  wonders,  yet  may  not  tell  it  to  you!  It  is  a 
vow,  an  Indian  vow,  see  my  hand !  "  and  she  held  out 
her  palm.  It  was  white  as  with  powdered  lime  upon 
it.  "  Only  to  save  a  life  dare  we  take  that  trail  again, 
for  it  is,  above  all,  sacred.  It  is  a  true  House  of  the 
Dawn,  Juanito,  and  we  made  the  vow  of  secrets  as  the 
sun  came  out  of  the  dawn  to  watch !  The  sacred  eagles 
nest  there  above  a  wonderful  sanctuary,  and  we  are 
given  these  as  sign  that  we  have  the  right  of  the 
eagles." 

She  showed  me  an  eagle  feather  marked  on  one  side 
by  the  stripping  of  its  fringe  in  four  places.  There  was 
a  certain  individual  token  in  the  marking.  I  noted 
that  Tristan  also  carried  one,  but  not  in  special  display. 


CANON   OF   THE   DIVINE   ONES  343 

"  Is  there  any  other  gift  or  honor  left  to  bestow  upon 
you  by  these  desert  folk  whom  you  enchant?"  I 
grumbled.  "  How  am  I  to  be  a  proper  guardian  for 
your  Excellency  if  you  steal  out  to  secret  meeting 
places  while  I  get  my  sleep  ?  " 

She  only  laughed,  and  patted  my  cheek,  and  promised 
she  would  put  me  under  her  wing  when  she  fled  to  that 
sanctuary  of  the  dawn  place  for  refuge. 

Then  she  ate  her  share  of  breakfast  heartily,  and 
confided  to  me  that  the  secret  adventure  was  a  joy 
to  her  because  of  the  eagles.  That  first  wonderful 
place  of  the  terraces  in  the  south  gave  its  own  memories 
of  a  greatness,  yet  the  wings  of  the  vultures  there  op 
pressed  her.  The  place  of  the  shrine  at  Walpi  lifted 
the  soul  because  it  was  an  unbelievable  nature  place. 
But  the  temple  where  the  roses  grew  was  the  work  of 
ancient  man,  and  truly  great,  and  the  most  sacred  bird 
of  strength  held  guard  over  it  that  it  be  kept  inviolate. 

"  When  we  have  left  the  desert  life  far  behind,  I 
may  tell  you  of  it,  Juanito,"  she  promised,  "  but  not 
between  these  ranges.  The  honor  was  shown  me,  I 
truly  believe,  because  of  these  beads  I  wear,  and  Man 
uel  seems  to  know  of  some  virtues  of  your  friend,  Kahn 
Alcatraz;  thus  the  two  of  us  were  asked  to  leave 
record  there  on  the  temple  wall.  But  he  is  more 
modest  than  I  —  he  does  not  boast,  nor  flaunt  his  whit 
ened  hand." 

Tristan  heard  her  raillery,  and  his  eyes  were  never 
long  from  her  direction,  yet  he  was  very  silent,  and  I 
thought,  had  a  look  most  anxious. 

But  he  was  brief  in  all  arrangements  for  the  divid 
ing  of  the  trails,  and  the  Navajo  women  gladly  climbed 


344      THE    HOUSE    OF    THE    DAWN 

on  the  backs  of  the  horses,  and  regarded  Sancha  as 
more  than  mortal  that  she  had  come,  white  from  out 
the  Desert,  and  helped  to  give  them  freedom.  One 
offered  her  a  narrow  obsidian  knife,  and  the  other  a 
pendant  of  turquoise. 

"  It  is  good  that  you  take  them,"  said  Wisti.  "  It 
is  the  proving  that  you  have  come  out  of  the  Desert 
with  friends  in  three  tribes  of  people.  If  days  come 
when  you  need  friends,  it  is  good  to  have  a  sign  to 
send.  These  gifts  are  as  the  eagle  feather,  and  —  it  is 
a  pledge." 

Then  he  touched  the  turquoise  in  the  rosary  she 
wore. 

"  This  also,"  he  said.  "  Each  man  who  has  given 
a  bead  knows  —  or  his  clan  knows.  See  how  it  has 
made  easy  your  way !  " 

The  Navajo  men  asked  Wisti  to  make  clear  to  "  the 
chief "  their  names  and  their  clans,  and  if  again  he 
crossed  their  lands,  he  must  send  word  to  them. 

Then  they  made  their  farewells,  and  went  back  up 
the  trail  through  the  forest,  while  we  went  down  and 
outward  on  the  great  plateau  of  a  land  that  is  like  no 
other. 

The  catcher  of  eagles  went  before  us,  and  was  of 
much  help.  He  was  a  man  of  few  words,  and  would 
walk  hour  after  hour  beside  Wisti  and  no  speech  be 
tween  them,  for  that  is  the  Indio  way.  And  Tristan 
grew  almost  as  silent  and  watched  their  faces,  strangely 
alert.  He  left  Sancha  to  my  care,  and  gave  much  time 
to  the  men. 

When  I  asked  if  he  had  doubt  or  fear  of  the  new 
man,  he  shook  his  head. 


CANON   OF   THE   DIVINE   ONES  345 

"  I  have  had  no  doubt  of  any  since  we  left  the  Oriabe 
men  behind  in  Hopi  land,"  he  said ;  "  not  even  of  the 
three  Spaniards  whose  names  we  do  not  know.  But 
strange  things  are  on  this  trail.  I  came  over  the  land 
once  with  a  man  they  thought  next  to  God,  yet  these 
things  did  not  happen.  Do  you  not  see  that  each 
tribe  is  giving  a  pledge,  or  sign,  or  symbol,  by  which 
we  may  call  on  friends  in  need?  There  was  nothing 
like  this  before.  It  is  not  doubt  —  far  from  it!  It  is 
their  jealous  care  of  us  by  which  I  am  made  anxious." 

"  Think  you  it  could  be  word  from  Mexico  —  your 
escape,  reward  or  —  " 

"  No,  it  is  no  thing  of  church  or  state.  It  is  an 
Indio  matter,  and  so  great  a  thing  that  it  touches 
three  tribes  wide  apart  from  each  other.  The  white 
men  know  nothing  of  it ;  all  is  peace  in  the  province, 
else  men  would  not  be  abroad  to  trap  women  and 
plan  weddings ;  such  pastimes  belong  to  peaceful  days. 
I  have  met  nothing  with  so  much  of  mystery  in  it,  for 
I  truly  believe  that  Wisti  does  not  know  —  yet  his 
father  in  Walpi  does  know!  Also  I  think  Manuel  of 
the  eagles  knows,  and  he  tells  me  he  is  going  with  you 
to  Santa  Fe." 

"  Why  say  it  in  that  way?    Do  you  not  go  also?  " 

"  Juanito,  comrade,"  he  said  with  gentleness.  "  Do 
you  not  know  there  must  be  a  parting  of  the  trails? 
This  is  not  to  be  said  before  your  cousin,  but  I  can 
help  her  to  nothing  in  New  Granada.  There  she  will 
find  people  of  her  rank  to  make  all  smooth  for  her. 
You  alone  must  stand  as  her  guardian,  and  Kahn  Alca- 
traz  will  be  only  a  name  of  a  desert  guide  for  whom 
no  one  is  accountable."  Then,  when  he  saw  the  pro- 


115 


L. 


346      THE    HOUSE    OF    THE    DAWN 

test  in  my  face,  he  added,  "  Think  back,  Juanito,  re 
member  what  you  have  seen  of  Inquisition  work  in 
Mexico,  and  know  it  is  stronger  here.  My  stay  in 
Santa  Fe  will  be  only  long  enough  to  find  one  man, 
and  after  that  it  is  not  to  be  hoped  we  will  meet  again. 
I  am,  even  now,  a  dangerous  person  for  her  to  know, 
she  will  learn  this  in  time ;  but  neither  of  us  can  tell 
her.  I  came  to  you  out  of  one  desert,  and  I  will  dis 
appear  in  another  wilderness;  beyond  that  you  must 
know  nothing  of  me.  Never  you  remember  hidden 
things,  Juanito." 

"  But  where  —  in  all  this  land  —  "I  began  in  won 
der,  but  he  stopped  me. 

"  Compared  with  what  we  have  crossed,  it  is  but 
a  summer's  day  travel  east  to  the  great  river  Miche  Sepi 
leading  north  to  the  colonies  of  France,"  he  said.  "  If 
need  be,  I  could  live  hidden  with  these  tribes  where 
neither  priest  nor  soldier  could  ever  find  me.  But  where 
those  women  in  a  boat  could  go,  I  surely  could  go,  and 
there  are  yet  great  lands  to  discover." 

"  You  say  nothing  these  late  days  of  Marco,"  I  ven 
tured,  "  and  I  wonder  —  " 

"  It  wastes  time,"  he  said.  "  Nothing  has  changed 
as  to  him.  She  will  grieve  for  her  pride  a  little  while, 
and  then  wed  with  some  governor  or  viceroy,  and  re 
member  the  desert  days  as  a  long  dream.  Be  very,  very 
patient  with  her,  Juanito." 

I  knew  I  should  surely  need  patience  and  courage, 
and  several  other  helpful  attributes  if  he  dropped  out 
of  our  lives  and  left  me  alone  to  her  questions,  and  my 
heart  grew  faint  within  me  on  that  part  of  the  trail. 

Then  we  reached  Jemez,  and  spent  the  night  in  the 


CANON   OF   THE   DIVINE   ONES  347 

house  of  Manuel.  His  Navajo  wife  had  a  few  words 
of  Spanish,  and  showed  every  kindness  to  Sancha. 

Tristan  left  us  to  rest,  and  disappeared  somewhere 
with  Manuel  in  one  of  their  sanctuaries ;  no  doubt  the 
one  where  he  had  so  easily  secured  rank  or  place  by 
painting  their  gods  as  they  had  dreamed  them.  It  left 
Sancha  and  me  free  to  roam,  but  she  confessed  herself 
oppressed  by  the  regard  of  these  people  —  they  gave 
no  such  sunny  welcome  as  had  the  people  of  Walpi. 
There  was  a  somber  note  in  the  life,  and  Sancha  wished 
for  a  priest  who  could  tell  us  of  these  people  who  gave 
us  food,  but  no  smiles.  Padre  Morador  of  the  mission, 
was  absent,  visiting  some  men  brought  home  crippled 
from  the  turquoise  mine  where  twenty  men  had  been 
crushed  to  death  by  the  caving  of  walls. 

Wisti  learned  this  and  told  us  very  gravely,  adding, 
as  he  pointed  to  the  turquoise  of  Sancha  "  I  am  telling 
them  you  wear  it  from  Navajo,  and  Pima,  and  Hopi, 
not  from  men  made  slaves  by  the  Castilian  god." 

This  death  of  the  enslaved  miners  made  explanation 
of  the  dark  looks  given  to  white  strangers,  but  Manuel's 
wife  was  kind,  and  noting  the  worn  foot-gear  of  Sancha, 
she  brought  out  maiden  boots,  almost  new,  and  asked 
Wisti  to  offer  them. 

Wisti  looked  at  them,  and  then  at  her  own  feet.  For 
whom  had  they  been  made? 

"  Manuel  —  he  make  —  for  Marta,"  said  the  wife, 
then  Sancha  came  in,  and  gave  thanks  when  the  boots 
were  offered,  looking  at  her  own  oft  mended  ones  rue 
fully. 

"  But  I  think  I  must  keep  these  always,"  she  said  — 
"  they  are  my  record  of  the  Desert." 


348     THE    HOUSE    OF   THE    DAWN 

And  no  one  but  I  seemed  to  note  the  name  of  the 
girl  for  whom  they  had  been  made,  and  I  wondered  not 
so  much  then  that  Manuel  meant  to  journey  with  us 
the  rest  of  the  way.  Those  hunters  of  women  had 
given  hint  to  the  trail  of  the  lost  daughter  for  whom 
he  asked  of  each  tribe  he  met.  And  he  had  sat  silent 
beside  them  at  the  camp  fire  in  the  pines  while  they 
told  of  her  slender  build,  her  Navajo  mother,  her  name, 
and  her  owner;  silent  had  he  sat  with  no  pretense  of 
knowing  Spanish  —  that  was  the  Indio! 


CHAPTER  XIX 
THE  END  OF  THE  TRAIL 

FROM  Jemez  I  remember  less  of  the  way  than  any 
other,  for  that  land  is  a  land  of  bleached  canons 
and  forgotten  cities.  Rifts  in  blackened  rock 
showed  where  fires  yet  burned  deep  in  the  earth, 
and  in  other  places  ancient  lava  cut  the  leather  of 
shoes  and  the  feet  of  horses.  After  we  left  the  high 
forests,  and  the  Jemez  valley,  each  turn  in  the  trail 
towards  the  river  showed  deeper  scars  of  monstrous 
cleavage  —  it  was  the  rock  ribs  of  a  world  bleached 
white  in  the  sun. 

Sancha  murmured  prayers  in  some  of  the  danger 
places,  and  bade  me  do  likewise. 

"  For  it  is  a  place  where  terrible  forces  have  left 
record,"  she  said,  "  and  where  things  of  terror  might 
happen." 

My  mind  was  full  enough  of  shadows  for  the  future, 
since  I  could  not  count  on  Tristan  after  the  passing 
of  the  Rio  Bravo  del  Norte.  I  knew  that  when  all 
dangers  were  over  for  us,  he  would  go  out  of  our 
lives,  and  I  rode  with  him  ever  in  sight,  though  at 
times  tears  blurred  my  vision,  for  he  had  been  salvation 
to  us,  and  I  was  only  a  boy. 

We  passed  a  village  ere  the  river  was  reached,  but 
Tristan  advised  against  camping  there.  Several  of  the 

349 


350     THE    HOUSE    OF    THE    DAWN 

Indians  killed  in  the  turquoise  mine  had  been  taken 
from  that  place  as  slaves,  and  the  looks  of  the  natives 
were  not  friendly  to  white  people. 

"  If  you  have  a  river  to  cross  in  the  Desert,  always 
cross  before  making  camp,"  advised  Tristan,  "  lest  a 
storm,  or  cloudburst  near  headwaters,  may  lift  the 
stream  high  in  the  night." 

No  one  gainsaid  him,  for  we  had  grown  a  silent 
group.  I,  because  of  my  own  fears,  and  Wisti  and 
Manuel  because  of  some  words  exchanged  with  the 
people  of  the  village,  but  they  would  not  tell  what  they 
were. 

"  It  is  the  tragic  death  of  all  those  men  in  the  mine 
of  the  slaves,"  decided  Tristan.  "  These  tribal  men 
have  done  great  works,  as  is  shown  by  their  ancient 
building,  and  canals,  yet  they  never  have  worked  as 
slaves  until  now,  and  to  die  in  that  slavery  is  a  serious 
thing,  and  the  white  conquerors  should  know  it  is  a 
dangerous  thing." 

"  What  could  happen?  "  asked  Sancha,  and  I  noted 
that  Wisti  and  Manuel  listened  while  one  made  a  fire 
and  the  other  prepared  rabbits  for  cooking. 

"  Much  could  happen  if  the  tribes  knew  their  strength 
and  were  not  so  constantly  fighting  little  wars  be 
tween  themselves,"  he  said.  "  No  white  conquerors 
have  conquered  either  in  Mexico,  or  here,  but  by  the 
help  of  Indians.  Moctezuma  was  conquered  as  much 
by  Tlascalans  as  by  Castilians.  These  tribes  have 
greater  power  than  they  know,  and  it  is  the  good 
fortune  of  the  white  people  that  they  do  not  know." 

What  else  he  said,  or  Sancha  said,  I  did  not  hear,  for 
my  mind  was  held  by  the  two  Indian  men.  Neither 


THE    END    OF    THE    TRAIL         351 

spoke,  neither  made  gesture  or  ceased  their  work,  but 
over  the  little  blaze  of  the  new  fire  Wisti  looked  at 
Manuel,  and  Manuel  met  him  with  strange  question 
in  his  eyes.  It  was  a  curious  look,  and  it  told  nothing ; 
each  questioned,  and  each  was  on  guard  even  with  the 
other.  I  recalled  afterwards  that  I  had  a  chill  because 
of  that  look,  and  got  to  my  feet  to  walk  it  off. 

When  I  came  back,  Sancha  and  Tristan  sat  above 
the  river  and  tossed  pebbles  like  children,  and  he  made 
a  balsa  of  willow  twigs,  and  launched  it  with  a  white 
primrose  as  freight. 

"  There  is  your  ship  of  life,"  he  said,  "  all  a  white 
blossom  on  a  muddy  stream,  Excellencia." 

"  Make  one  for  yourself,  and  I  will  forgive  you  the 
4  excellencia,' "  she  said,  and  laughed. 

"Will  you  so?"  he  asked,  and  wrapped  the  twigs 
and  tossed  them.  "  Will  you  indeed  forgive,  O  Desert 
Comrade  most  Wonderful?" 

She  put  out  her  hand  to  him,  but  leaned  over  the 
edge  of  the  bank. 

"  O  look !  look !  "  she  said.  "  They  drifted  wide,  and 
mine  halted  and  swirled  in  the  eddy,  and  now  the  cur 
rent  bears  them  together  until  no  eye  can  tell  which 
it  is  carries  the  cargo  of  the  desert  bloom.  Can  you?  " 

"  I  do  not  want  to,"  he  said,  and  looked  at  her,  and 
she  gave  one  quick  look  at  his  face,  and  bent  again 
over  the  bank. 

"  I  know."  and  she  spoke  lowly.  "  If  they  drift  apart 
each  would  seem  in  danger  of  wreckage,  and  it  fits  the 
peace  of  the  twilight  better  that  we  see  the  two  go 
together  like  that,  lit  by  the  white  flame  of  the  white 
blossom.  See!  they  have  passed  the  place  where  the 


352      THE    HOUSE    OF    THE    DAWN 

ripples  are,  and  no  drop  of  the  yellow  spray  has  touched 
the  white." 

"  That  is  how  it  will  be  —  O  White  Butterfly  Lady." 

"  Why  do  you  call  me  that?  "  she  asked,  and  he  stood 
up  and  looked  at  her.  His  arms  were  folded,  and  to  me 
there  was  a  certain  finality  in  his  manner. 

"  Perhaps  because  of  the  shrine  on  the  desert  mesa, 
and  the  white-winged  thing  there.  I  think  I  have  always 
wanted  to  call  you  your  Indian  name,  and  this  is  the 
last  night." 

"  What !  "  and  I  could  feel  her  terror. 

"  I  have  made  your  bed  of  the  fragrant  things  under 
the  stars  for  the  last  time  on  this  trail,  Marquesa  de 
Llorente  y  Rivera,"  he  said  grimly  enough.  "  When 
the  twilight  comes  on  the  morrow,  your  trail  of  the 
Desert  will  be  ended.  You  will  be  safe  among  people 
of  your  quality,  and  there  will  be  silken  covers  for 
you,  instead  of  desert  stars." 

"  And  you?  "  she  asked. 

"  I  shall  always  have  the  stars,  and  there  may  be 
summer  days  when  white  butterflies  cross  the  trail." 

"And  you  will  be  content  with  that?" 

"  That  will  mean  freedom  to  range,  and  I  have  been 
content  with  less,  White  Butterfly  Lady." 

"  You  are  a  mystery  to  me  always,  Kahn  Alcatraz," 
she  said.  "  In  all  these  days  you  ride  beside  us  as  a 
creature  of  power  —  yet  the  power  always  wears  its 
mask  even  to  me.  I  do  not  approve  of  that.  Good 
night,  Kahn  Alcatraz." 

"  God  be  with  you,  Lady  of  White  Butterflies ! " 

I  stood  in  my  tracks,  making  no  sound,  and  they 
turned  their  different  ways  without  getting  sight  of 


THE    END    OF    THE    TRAIL         353 

me,  and  that  was  the  last  night  camp  on  our  unfor 
gettable  trail. 

But  in  the  morning  I  was  startled  by  a  cry  from 
Sancha  in  the  dawn.  Close  beside  her  pillow  of  sage 
brush,  lay  a  handful  of  the  white  primrose  of  the  Desert, 
and  beyond  that  no  sign  left  of  Tristan  —  it  was  his  fare 
well!  He  had  lain  down  to  his  rest  as  had  the  others, 
and  no  one  knew  when  he  had  risen  and  taken  the 
trail. 

In  vain  I  assured  her  I  did  not  know,  and  had  distress 
enough  of  my  own  without  borrowing  from  her.  If 
the  man  was  weary  of  our  company,  I  did  not  feel  to 
blame.  I  assured  her  I  had  ever  given  him  friendly 
courtesy,  and  knew  no  cause  of  his  going  without  fare 
well  to  me. 

She  only  stared  at  that,  and  gave  me  cold  disdain  for 
the  first  mile  or  two  on  the  way,  then  she  turned  to  me 
after  moody  silence. 

"  But  he  forgave  me  my  early  discourtesy,"  she  pro 
tested,  and  thus  I  knew  where  her  thoughts  had  been. 
"  He  did  forgive  it  all  in  a  comradely  way,  and  I  had 
intent  to  have  all  honor  shown  to  him  before  the  gov 
ernor;  for  God  knows,  Juanito,  he  has  been  as  a  very 
Saint  of  the  Impossible  on  earth  for  us." 

"  But  that  saint  was  a  woman,"  I  reminded  her. 

"  Ay,  so  they  taught  me,"  she  answered,  "  but  in  the 
New  World  there  are  bewildering  new  things  to  be 
learned." 

That  of  course  was,  and  is,  a  fact,  and  I  kept  my 
tongue  between  my  teeth  for  I  knew  she  had  more  of 
the  unexpected  still  to  meet,  and  she  would  need  a 
litany  of  saints,  or  a  heavenly  faith,  to  see  her  through. 


THE    HOUSE    OF   THE    DAWN 

And  to  meet  it  we  journeyed  over  a  trail  of  lava  in 
the  hills,  but  when  we  went  into  the  lower  lands,  we 
could  view  great  pastures  and  comfortable  herds  of 
cattle,  which  brought  the  proof  that  we  were  at  last 
coming  near  the  governor's  seat  of  the  most  northern 
Spanish  province.  There  I  turned  to  her,  and  made  my 
endeavor  to  cloak  his  presence  in  the  land. 

"  Sancha  dear,"  I  said  humbly  enough.  "  He  has 
other  cause  than  we  know  for  his  comings  and  goings  in 
this  land.  It  is  as  well  to  say  little  of  a  white 
comrade  on  the  trail.  If  he  is  enemy  to  friend  of  ours, 
that  comradeship  might  be  hard  to  explain.  We  are 
young,  Sancha  mine,  and  we  will  have  to  live  the  rest 
of  our  lives  on  the  plans  we  make  in  this  town  of 
Santa  Fe  at  the  end  of  the  trail.  Let  him  go  as  he  will, 
and  mention  him  only  as  Ivava,  if  you  mention  him  at 
all;  it  is  a  good  name." 

"  It  is  a  good  name,  for  it  means  brother,"  she  agreed, 
"  and  you  are  not  trusting  me,  Juanito.  But  if  either 
of  you  think  I  will  not  see  him  again,  it  a  foolish 
thought.  He  had  love  for  that  woman,  but  I  have 
my  own  reckoning  day  as  well  as  he  in  this  land,  and 
when  it  is  over  I  shall  see  him  again.  The  thought 
that  he  is  utterly  gone  is  foolish  —  he  is  only  out  of 
our  sight.  But  I  will  call  him  Ivava  to  please  you, 
Juanito." 

So  it  was  decided,  and  when  we  halted  at  a  pueblo 
where  good  water  was,  we  heard  clatter  of  horses,  and 
a  troop  of  the  governor's  guard  rode  up  and  saluted, 
and  the  chief  officer,  Captain  Roque  de  Lara,  gave  us 
welcome.  His  word  was  that  a  padre  of  Mexico  —  Fray 
Domingo  —  had  given  the  word  to  Governor  Otermin 


THE    END    OF    THE    TRAIL         355 

of  our  coming,  and  of  our  rank.  The  mystery  of  this 
was  made  somewhat  clear  by  the  added  fact  that  Fray 
Domingo  had  met  some  hunters  who  crossed  our  trail. 

"  But  we  were  told  there  was  a  white  man  with  you, 
and  I  see  none,"  he  said. 

Whereupon  with  as  careless  a  manner  as  might  be, 
I  stated  that  the  man  was  but  a  ranger  who  had  served 
as  guard,  and  when  we  were  at  the  edge  of  safety,  he 
had  gone  his  own  way. 

Sancha  looked  her  disapproval  of  my  slight  opinion 
of  him,  yet  she  said  no  word,  and  permitted  herself  to 
be  mounted  on  a  fresh  horse,  and  gave  joy  to  Captain 
de  Lara  by  riding  beside  him  into  the  town  of  the 
Holy  Faith  of  Saint  Francis. 

There  was  excitement  enough,  and  to  spare,  over  our 
arrival  from  the  wide  wilderness  of  the  pagans.  So 
many  were  the  questions,  and  the  strange  faces,  that 
it  is  a  blur  in  my  mind  to  this  day. 

His  Excellency,  Don  Antonio  Otermin,  and  his  wife, 
Dona  Zelinda,  looked  to  the  comfort  of  Sancha  who 
was  housed  in  the  Governor's  Palace;  a  long  adobe 
building,  of  insignificance  to  our  eyes  after  the  wonders 
in  the  ancient  homes  of  the  Desert. 

But  there  was  clean  linen,  and  Christian  welcome,  and 
De  Lara  was  my  friend  to  lend  me  needful  garments  in 
which  to  make  proper  appearance  at  the  governor's 
table.  Manuel  had  asked  with  civility  to  be  my  servant 
on  our  arrival,  and  as  Sancha  and  I  might  well  employ 
one  between  us,  I  asked  courtesy  of  De  Lara  for  him 
until  we  two  bankrupts  had  time  to  discover  what 
would  chance  us  next. 

Neither  of  us  asked   for   Marco,   and  nothing  was 


356      THE    HOUSE    OF    THE    DAWN 

seen  of  him,  but  my  friend,  the  captain,  laughed  and 
made  a  remark  concerning  him,  and  concerning  the 
chance  that  Marco  would  slip  into  town  the  back  way, 
and  come  with  no  tooting  of  horn  from  San  Yldefonso. 

When  I  asked  the  meaning  of  that,  he  told  me  Marco 
had  gone  north  a  day's  journey  on  some  business  of 
Governor  Otermin,  and  had  taken  his  pretty  family 
along  lest  she  be  stolen  by  some  one  else  in  his  absence ! 
—  also  that  her  excellency,  the  marquesa,  might  not 
relish  so  pretty  a  serving  maid  as  had  been  secured  for 
her. 

And  by  that  I  saw  of  course  that  no  secrecy  could  be 
made  of  the  betrothal.  The  vanity  of  Marco  made 
known  all  his  conquests. 

"  But  it  is  by  fateful  and  unexpected  adventure  that 
Dona  Sancha  has  reached  this  frontier  land,"  I  ex 
plained.  Her  destination  was  a  convent  instead  of  the 
Governor's  Palace." 

De  Lara  and  his  comrades  were  tireless  in  their 
question  of  the  wide  trail  and  the  tribes  of  the  west. 
A  padre  from  Mexico  had  arrived,  weeks  before,  with 
tales  of  the  Apache  war  on  the  Pima,  and  the  difficulties 
of  the  eastern  trail;  we  had  done  well  to  keep  to  the 
west. 

I  pricked  up  my  ears  as  to  the  padre,  and  the  latest 
word  from  Mexico,  but  my  new  friend  knew  only  that 
his  name  was  Padre  Domingo  Orellano  and  that  he 
had  some  business  of  import  for  the  Holy  Office,  and 
was  a  man  made  of  whalebone  by  the  look  of  him,  and 
the  endurance.  In  the  Apache  land  he  had  traveled  two 
days  without  daring  to  approach  a  water  hole  —  and 
was  confidently  hoping  for  martyrdom. 


THE    END    OF   THE    TRAIL         357 

I  met  the  man,  and  bowed  before  him  in  the  house 
of  the  governor,  and  felt  his  cold  gray  eyes  measure 
me,  and  weigh  me. 

He  asked  where  our  guide  had  left  us ;  also  his  name. 
I  replied  that  it  was  Ivava,  and  he  had  only  remained 
with  us  for  courtesy  and  our  safety;  after  the  latter 
was  assured,  he  had  gone  about  his  own  business  which 
had  to  do  with  Indians. 

"Ah!"  he  said,  "ah-h!  Indians?" 

I  made  my  face  a  blank  against  the  gaze  like  a  gimlet 
in  its  searching,  and  his  smile  was  not  to  my  liking. 
I  had  a  chill  of  fear  at  thought  of  this  man  hoping  for 
martyrdom  for  the  Faith  —  and  on  the  trail  of  Tristan ! 

Then  Sancha  came  in  with  Dona  Zelinda  and  a  Dona 
Ynez  Tafoya  who  had  shared  the  adventures  of  her 
young  husband  in  the  colony.  I  was  glad  of  heart  to 
see  Sancha  safe  again  under  a  roof,  and  garbed  in  a 
gown  of  white  linen,  and  a  rebosa  of  lace  over  her 
shoulders. 

Every  eye  was  turned  her  way  —  and  she  was  well 
worth  it.  As  a  personage,  and  the  niece  of  Fray  Payo, 
the  well  beloved,  all  homage  and  courtesy  was  her  due, 
but  it  was  something  more  which  caused  each  man's 
eye  to  lighten  at  sight  of  her.  Favorite  though  the 
Sancha  of  the  viceregal  court  had  been,  she  was  but  a 
hint  of  the  royal  beauty  the  Sancha  of  the  Desert  had 
become.  She  had  been  a  pale  bud  of  promise,  and  in 
the  dusty  garb  of  the  long  journey  I  had  grown  used 
to  the  change  in  her  by  degrees,  but  the  garb  of  dignity, 
and  the  burnished  tresses,  made  her  suddenly  a  revela 
tion;  she  radiated  beauty  graciously  as  a  flower  its 
perfume. 


358     THE    HOUSE    OF    THE    DAWN 

The  women  were  her  adoring  admirers  as  well  as  the 
men:  for  to  them  she  was  as  the  spirit  of  a  romance 
such  as  women's  hearts  feed  upon.  Welcome  diet  it  was 
in  that  adobe  town  of  the  frontier,  for  there  was  little 
of  change  there  but  to  change  the  guard,  and  protect 
the  settlements  as  might  be  from  Apache,  Navajo,  or 
roving  Comanche. 

Her  eyes  went  quickly  over  every  face  in  the  sala. 
Then  she  looked  at  me  in  question,  but  I  kept  my  at 
tention  steadily  for  Dona  Ynez,  who  was  exceedingly 
gracious.  She  told  me  her  husband,  Don  Lorenzo,  was 
expected  back  from  Santa  Cruz  a  day  later,  and  she 
would  pray  that  he  come  by  San  Yldefonso  and  bring 
Senor  Lieutenant  de  Ordono  quickly  to  so  fair  a  sweet 
heart.  All  the  town,  with  its  hundred  and  twenty  sol 
diers,  would  celebrate  the  wedding  day. 

"  Wonderful  proud  one ! "  murmured  Dona  Ynez, 
and  looked  half  pitifully  at  Sancha ;  "  it  is  as  well  there 
is  a  day  for  preparing,  for  there  must  be  no  thorns  on 
her  roses." 

She  was  a  lovely  lady,  who  had  come  north  with  the 
colonists;  and  there  was  a  comfort  to  me  in  having 
one  new  friend  who  knew  of  Anita,  and  would  help 
cloak,  if  need  be,  all  truths  from  Sancha. 

But  it  was  thin  ice  we  all  stood  on  that  night  of  the 
first  supper  at  the  table  of  the  governor,  for  Padre 
Domingo  was  ever  as  a  watchful  puma  coming  back 
on  the  trail ;  and  suddenly,  after  Sancha  had  told  of  the 
disaster  to  the  hopes  of  Mother  Clemente,  and  the  cap 
ture  of  us  by  the  Sonoran  tribe,  the  padre  suddenly 
asked : 


THE    END    OF    THE    TRAIL         359 


"  Did  you,  by  any  chance,  hear  of  the  heretic,  Tristan 
Rueda,  on  that  trail?  " 

Sancha  looked  at  him  curiously,  half  smiling,  yet 
wrinkling  her  brows. 

"  How  strange  to  hear  that  name  away  here,"  she 
said.  "A  heretic,  good  father?  Truly?" 

"You  have  not  seen  him  on  the  trail?"  he  asked 
again,  and  she  laughed  and  shook  her  head. 

"  I  never  have  seen  him  since  I  was  but  a  child  in 
Seville,  and  he  angered  me  so  that  I  was  long  in  for 
giving.  I  never  have  seen  him  in  this  land,  but  no 
one  told  me  he  was  a  lost  soul.  I  am  sad  at  heart  of 
that  thought,  for  Don  Rodrigo  loved  him." 

"  And  Fray  Payo  and  —  many  others,  Dona  Sancha," 
said  Dona  Ynez.  "  He  was  high  in  favor  with  Don 
Tomas,  and  had  painted  the  most  lovely  picture  of 
Dona  Perfecta  de  Dasmarinas.  It  was  enough  to  cause 
love  for  her  but  to  look  at  it,  so  beautiful  it  was  —  like 
a  golden  poppy  of  a  woman." 

"  Why  —  yes,  I  saw  the  portrait,  but  no  one  told 
me  it  was  by  the  hand  of  that  Rueda,"  said  Sancha, 
perplexed,  and  looking  at  me.  "  If  he  knew  enough  to 
paint  so  well,  small  wonder  that  he  angered  me  long 
ago  by  slighting  a  portrait  I  thought  entirely  the  work 
of  inspiration.  I  was  but  a  silly  one  at  that  time." 

"  Ay,  he  knows  enough  —  with  Satan  for  his  master !  " 
agreed  Padre  Domingo.  "  Angels  for  the  chapel  of 
San  Carlos  he  did,  and  there  is  grave  doubt  now  con 
cerning  them  —  it  is  thought  they  will  be  painted  over 
by  a  true  believer." 

"  But  they  were  quite  things  of  wonder  in  beauty!  " 
said  the  amazed  Dona  Ynez.  "  I  went  there  for  prayers 


360      THE    HOUSE    OF    THE    DAWN 

on  my  wedding  morning,  and  closing  my  eyes,  I  can 
still  see  them." 

"  Things  of  beauty,  yes,"  agreed  Padre  Domingo 
grimly,  "  things  of  wonder  to  make  poor  souls  forget 
the  sins  and  souls,  and  remember  only  the  fleshly  beauty 
of  color  and  likeness  to  life.  Spirit  is  what  he  was  told 
to  paint,  and  he  did  instead  graceful  wenches  wreathed 
in  cloud.  That  is  the  time  he  should  have  been  curbed, 
and  never  let  do  that  Virgin  of  the  Fawn,  which  is  a 
pagan  false  goddess,  and  not  the  holy  Santa  Maria  at 
all." 

"The  —  Virgin  of  —  the  Fawn!"  repeated  Sancha 
with  stiff  lips,  and  paling  face. 

"Why  —  we  never  heard  of  that  Virgin,"  said  Dona 
Zelinda. 

"  Nor  did  any  one  else  in  Christian  faith  ever  before," 
stated  Padre  Domingo.  "  The  painter  was  a  heretic 
Jew  on  trial  for  the  faith,  and  was  given  the  task  in 
prison  to  paint  an  altarpiece  of  holiness,  if  Santa  Maria, 
the  Virgin,  gave  him  leave.  Well,  an  altarpiece  was 
painted,  and  his  friends  say  that  the  Holy  Mother 
helped  him.  But  there  is  another  side  of  the  story;  we 
have  painters  in  holy  orders  who  are  modest,  and  —  all 
too  lenient.  Also  after  the  painting  was  done,  the 
apostate  painter  escaped  from  prison.  He  started  north, 
but  has  touched  no  point  on  El  Paso  trail.  Thus  my 
question  to  you;  He  escaped  prison  before  your  excel 
lency  took  leave  of  Mexico." 

"  Juanito,  did  you  know?  "  asked  Sancha. 

"  I  did  hear,  but  who  knows  the  business  of  the 
Holy  Office?  Because  a  man  is  no  longer  seen  does 
not  mean  he  has  escaped." 


THE    END    OF    THE    TRAIL 

"  But,  as  to  the  picture?  "  she  persisted,  and  the  good 
food  was  forgotten  on  her  plate,  and  her  voice  shook 
despite  its  coldness. 

"  Of  the  picture  there  were  rumors,  as  the  reverend 
father  rightly  says,"  I  replied  virtuously.  "  No  one 
saw  the  painting  of  that  picture.  No  one  but  Fray 
Bernardino  truly  knows.  The  decoration  of  the  chapel, 
and  the  altar,  was  in  the  hands  of  Fray  Bernardino." 

"  That  is  the  true  word,  and  the  sorrowful  one," 
said  Padre  Domingo,  "  for  Bernardino  has  ever  had  a 
soft  place  in  his  heart  for  that  adventurer  apostate. 
The  evidence  points  one  way ;  the  painting  was  credited 
to  the  Jewish  heretic  that  true  believers  might  vote 
him  innocent." 

"  No  heretic  could  do  that  picture,"  stated  Sancha. 
"  I  saw  it.  No,  no !  the  painter  of  that  was  not  heretic." 

"  So  I  say,"  decided  Padre  Domingo.  "  He  may 
have  given  help,  for  he  has  the  devil's  cleverness  — 
or  the  Jews' !  He  has  been  upheld  by  men  who  should 
be  disciplined  for  it,  and  all  will  come  out  when  we 
find  him  again." 

"  But  we  knew  Tristan  Rueda,  and  he  was  honest 
Christian,  or  so  it  seemed,"  said  Dona  Ynez.  "  Fray 
Payo  gave  him  countenance  in  all  things,  and  he  could 
have  mounted  high  if  he  had  cared  for  worldly  posses 
sion  rather  than  profitless  learning.  How  could  he 
so  quickly  turn  Jew?  " 

"  A  Jew  he  was  born,  or  of  Jewish  ancestry,  so  the 
curse  is  in  the  blood,"  said  the  padre. 

"  This  is  all  very  strange  to  me,"  said  Sancha.  "  I 
never  knew  the  man,  but  he  stood  high  in  the  thought 
of  Uncle  Rodrigo." 


362      THE    HOUSE    OF    THE    DAWN 

"  Your  excellency  has  not  been  told  then  that  it 
was  the  death-bed  confession  of  Don  Rodrigo  de  Ordono 
by  which  the  Jew's  ancestry  was  made  known?"  de 
manded  Padre  Domingo  with  a  keen  look  at  her,  but 
she  shook  her  head,  white,  and  bewildered. 

"  All  these  things  are  heard  by  me  for  the  first  time, 
and  they  give  me  a  soul  sickness  instead  of  joy  at  the 
end  of  the  trail,"  she  confessed.  "  If  it  is  true  that  the 
word  of  Don  Rodrigo  sentenced  that  man,  then  Don 
Rodrigo  died  in  torment,  for  he  loved  him  well.  I  pray 
your  excellency — " 

She  turned  with  pleading  eyes  to  Governor  Otermin, 
and  he  smiled  upon  her,  and  lifted  his  goblet  of  wine. 

"  You  are  overtired  to  be  entertained  by  tales  of 
heretics  and  the  laws,  Excellencia,"  he  said,  "  but  ere 
Dona  Zelinda  and  Dona  Ynez  claim  you  for  the  night, 
I  would  empty  a  cup  to  the  most  distinguished  lady 
who  has  ever  braved  our  northern  wilderness.  We  drink 
to  your  high  courage,  to  the  honor  of  your  house,  and 
to  the  noble  example  you  have  set  to  ladies  of  rank.  I 
may  hope  to  double  my  army  on  this  example,  for  men 
will  ever  come  in  plenty  where  maidens  venture  forth. 
To  your  happiness,  Marquesa  de  Llorente  y  Rivera !  " 

Sancha  smiled  with  stiff  lips,  as  all  stood  in  her  honor, 
and  lifted  goblets  high,  and  then  made  a  little  lane 
through  which  she  was  led  by  her  host.  My  last  sight 
was  of  two  reproachful  eyes,  gazing  at  me  above  the 
head  of  the  governor  as  he  bent  low  over  her  hand. 

Then  the  door  closed,  and  the  men  sat  again  at  the 
table  and  voiced  their  admiration.  I  alone  sat  silent, 
I,  and  the  gray  padre  watching  me,  and,  after  a  little, 
he  spoke. 


••MMMMMMBH 

THE    END    OF    THE    TRAIL         363 

"  Is  it  not  strange,  Senor  Rivera,  that  the  thing  of 
greatest  scandal  of  the  Mexican  winter  has  never 
reached  the  ears  of  your  cousin,  Dona  la  Marquesa,  until 
tonight?" 

The  governor  turned  a  quick  frowning  face  on  the 
padre. 

"  That  scandal  drove  away  our  most  lovely  guest, 
father,"  he  remarked.  "  Is  it  your  intent  to  send  the 
rest  of  us  to  bad  dreams?  " 

"  Nay,  rather  to  get  trail  of  an  arch  enemy  to  Mother 
Church,"  he  said  softly,  crossing  himself.  "  These  chil 
dren  from  the  Desert  might  have  traveled  in  perilous 
company,  Excellency,  and  none  to  warn  them." 

Their  exchange  of  words  gave  me  time  to  gather  my 
wits. 

"  Your  Excellency,"  I  ventured.  "  The  reverend  father 
has  reason  on  his  side,  for  Tristan  Rueda  was  a  favorite 
of  two  viceroys,  and  much  in  the  speech  of  men.  His 
brush  made  one  portrait  of  a  lady  of  rank  in  the  palace 
—  so  he  was  a  Somebody.  But  fashions  change  at 
court  as  elsewhere,  and  when  the  Marquesa  de  Llorente 
arrived,  his  was  a  forbidden  name  there.  I  am  witness 
that  Dona  Perfecta,  for  sake  of  policy,  had  a  priest  to 
alter  points  in  that  portrait  of  hers,  and,  as  the  Marquesa 
lived  in  the  viceroy's  honored  circle,  and  knew  no  other, 
how  should  she  hear  of  this  outlawed  man?  He  was 
never  known  to  her  by  sight  even  in  her  childhood,  and 
for  this  reason  I  gave  her  no  confidence  in  the  matter, 
lest  it  bring  her  grief  for  Don  Rodrigo's  painful  duty, 
as  you  are  witness  now." 

"  True,"  said  Governor  Otermin,  "  I  have  heard  it 
was  that  honored  old  soldier  who  made  the  betrothal, 


364     THE    HOUSE    OF    THE    DAWN 

and  won  such  a  treasure  for  Marco  de  Ordono.  By 
the  Faith,  she  is  too  rare  a  creature  for  a  lieutenant; 
a  viceregal  palace  would  be  better  shelter  for  such  a 
face!" 

"  It  is  whispered,  your  excellency,  that  she  could 
have  even  that,  and  without  striving,"  stated  Padre 
Domingo  impressively ;  "  this  young  gallant  should 
know  somewhat  of  that." 

"  I  know  only  her  words  —  that  she  would  wed  as 
arranged,  or  re-enter  the  conventual  life.  All  her  years 
were  lived  thus  until  now." 

"  What  a  waste  of  beauty !  "  said  Roque  de  Lara. 
"  His  excellency  is  right,  as  always ;  such  proud  loveli 
ness  would  grace  a  palace.  How  think  you  Lieutenant 
Marco  may  measure  up  to  it?  She  looked  like  Sheba's 
queen  to  me,  though  in  an  Indian  dress,  and  a  man's 
cloak." 

"  I  started  a  runner  at  once  with  a  message  to  him," 
said  the  governor  —  "  the  most  gracious  thing  I  could 
do  for  one  so  proud  that  she  makes  no  mention  of  him 
when  his  voice  is  not  here  to  speak  welcome." 

"  More  than  pride,  that,"  said  the  gray  padre.  "  More 
than  pride!  It  holds  its  own  mystery;  which  does  not 
fit  with  her  path  half-way  round  the  world." 

His  tone  was  quiet  and  thoughtful,  but  his  eyes  never 
left  my  face,  and  the  curious  smile  of  his  thin  lips  had 
too  much  satisfaction  in  them  for  my  content.  There 
are  nights  even  now  when  I  dream  of  those  crafty 
eyes  watching  —  watching  from  under  the  gray  over 
hanging  brows.  I  had  little  chills  and  flashes  of  fever 
at  his  gaze,  and  I  cross  myself  now  when  I  think  of 
all  it  meant. 


THE    END    OF    THE    TRAIL         365 

There  were  questions  asked  me  of  the  western  pueb 
los,  and  their  appearance  of  content,  but  I  was  well 
near  to  being  tongue  tied,  and  could  only  tell  that  they 
were  friendly,  and  the  guides  they  sent  proved  loyal. 
Cochiti  village  showed  some  sullen  faces,  but  we  did 
not  halt  there.  The  governor  listened  closely. 

"  You  see,  gentlemen,  the  trouble  is  not  in  the  west, 
and  is  not  general.  It  is  the  northern  groups  for  whom 
the  guard  must  never  be  lax.  That  crime  lately  at 
San  Juan  is  the  most  troubling  thing,  for  it  was  Pope 
himself  who  strangled  the  Indian  governor  there,  and 
Pope  has  heretofore  been  politic  with  all  the  clans, 
striving  with  constancy  to  incite  them  to  return  to  the 
pagan  faith.  Padre,  cannot  the  Holy  Office  help  us 
in  this  matter?  This  red  apostate  claims  to  talk  with 
spirits,  and  excites  the  poor  natives  to  distraction.  If 
you  have  leave  to  trail  one  renegade  painter  for  execu 
tion,  why  not  a  rebellious  leader  who  is  against  church 
and  state?" 

"  The  execution  of  that  rebellious  Indio,  your  ex 
cellency,  should  have  been  carried  out  before  he  gath 
ered  his  bewitched  and  fanatic  guards  about  him.  He 
moves  about  in  state  with  more  courtiers  than  the 
soldiers  in  your  garrison.  He  will  be  dealt  with  when 
the  time  comes,  but  the  trail  of  this  renegade  Jew  is  a 
different  matter.  His  knowledge  of  other  secret  Span 
ish  heretics  may  be  great.  It  is  not  for  death  he  is 
precious,  but  to  be  put  to  the  question  as  a  most  learned 
apostate.  His  friends  in  high  places  did  win  him  re 
spite,  and  he  has  been  let  run  the  length  of  his  chain, 
but  it  is  only  to  be  drawn  back  as  witness  for  the 
Faith." 


366      THE    HOUSE    OF    THE    DAWN 

His  words  were  to  the  Governor,  but  his  eyes  were 
on  me  with  that  mocking,  endless  stare,  as  if  to  read 
all  the  thoughts  I  had  ever  dared  cultivate.  Boy  as  I 
was,  emerging  from  the  months  of  desert  silences,  it 
was  a  nerve  racking  time  I  put  in  there,  with  the  con 
sciousness  of  that  death's  head  gloating  over  me. 

I  welcomed  the  first  move  of  the  captain  to  go,  for  I 
had  not  the  courage  to  take  myself  away,  much  though 
I  craved  to. 

As  the  other  men  bade  good  night,  and  went  out,  De 
Lara  halted  to  speak  to  Governor  Otermin  of  some 
private  matter,  and  I  stood  near  the  door,  afraid,  in 
truth,  to  go  out  alone  lest  I  should  run  wildly  in  useless 
search  for  Tristan,  and  shout  to  him  my  warning. 
Someway  I  knew  he  had  either  evaded  the  town,  or  was 
well  hidden,  but  who  was  there  to  tell  him  the  breed 
of  tiger  on  the  trail? 

The  knowledge  of  Padre  Domingo  was  very  wide,  and 
I  was  clear  as  a  piece  of  crystal  to  him,  for  he  con 
tinued  to  smile  as  I  fumbled  nervously  with  the  cuff 
of  my  borrowed  garment,  and  strove  to  look  com 
fortably  placed. 

"  The  length  of  his  chain,"  said  the  padre  softly. 
"  Don  Juan  Rivera,  you  perhaps  do  not  know  that 
Padre  de  Vallada  in  the  Desert,  has  the  swiftest  couriers 
of  New  Granada  at  his  call.  Do  you  know  now  just 
how  long  is  the  chain  for  Tristan  Rueda  Alcatraz?  " 

So  he  had  known  all  the  time! 

I  could  only  look  at  him,  struck  dazed  with  all  it 
meant.  He  had  played  with  us  as  a  cat  with  mice.  He 
had  given  me  a  chance  to  damn  myself  in  the  eyes 
of  the  Holy  Office  by  withholding  testimony.  Thus, 


THE    END    OF    THE    TRAIL         367 

no  matter  how  long  a  chain  was  given  me,  they  could 
also  draw  me  back  for  service  if  a  day  came  when  I 
was  desired.  And  their  strength  on  the  frontier  was 
above  the  power  of  state ! 

More  than  that  one  crafty  question  he  did  not  speak. 
It  was  as  if  he  meant  to  kill  me  by  inches  of  torment, 
yet  I  was  so  slight  and  helpless  he  could  afford  to  let 
me  walk  free,  knowing  the  limit  absolutely  of  my  range 
—  he  held  the  other  end  of  the  chain ! 

No  one  heard  him  but  me.  He  did  not  mean  to 
make  a  scandal  in  the  governor's  circle  of  guests,  but 
I  had  my  warning. 

Someway  I  got  outside,  ahead  of  Roque  de  Lara.  I 
was  voiceless  with  dread,  and  began  to  understand 
why  there  had  been  so  little  comment  on  the  disap 
pearance  of  our  guide. 

Had  I  known  then  that  Tristan,  supperless,  lay  roped 
and  tied  in  the  adobe  cuartel  not  a  bowshot  away,  the 
fine  supper  at  the  table  of  the  governor  would  have 
choked  me. 


CHAPTER  XX 
ON  SANTA  FE  HILL  IN  NEW  GRANADA 


M 


Y  NIGHT  under  a  roof  was  one  of  sleepless 
dread,  in  terror  at  thought  of  facing  Sancha, 
and  in  even  greater  terror  of  what  the  keen 
gray  padre  meant  to  do  with  us  all. 
At  dawn  Wisti  was  waiting  me  at  the  door,  huddled 
up  in  a  blanket,  and  his  words  did  not  bring  comfort. 
He  asked  that  I  get  for  use  the  dress  in  which  the 
White  Butterfly  Maid  had  ridden  away  from  Walpi. 
It  had  been  presented  to  her  for  wearing.  In  the 
patio  of  the  house  of  the  governor  he  had  seen  her  in 
a  garb  of  fine  white,  but  the  tribes  only  knew  of  her 
by  the  Hopi  dress,  and  the  gray  cloak,  and  if  she  was 
indeed  my  sister  of  the  heart,  I  must  at  once  get  ready 
the  garments.  Also  his  word  to  me  was  that  it  would 
be  well  to  take  the  trail  without  delay  for  Mexico;  the 
tribes  in  New  Granada  were  not  content,  and  it  w?s 
an  ill  place  to  come  for  holiday. 

But  he  did  not  tell  all  this  so  plainly  as  I  say  it. 
Except  for  his  tremulous  anxiety  of  the  dress,  no  other 
statement  of  his  was  clear.  When  I  strove  to  learn 
the  thing  he  hinted,  I  could  get  from  him  only  the 
fact  that  he  was  a  simple  man  of  the  wilderness,  and  a 
stranger  in  the  Christian  town  of  Santa  Fe.  He  also 
made  statement  that  Manuel  would  take  good  care  of 

368 


ON   SANTA   F£   HILL 

the  garments  for  me,  and  Manuel  was  a  friend  and 
server. 

Thereupon  I  undertook,  as  early  as  might  be,  to 
come  by  the  desired  articles  by  the  hand  of  sleek  Rosita, 
a  half-breed  serving  maid  of  Dona  Ynez,  for  Wisti 
advised  that  it  be  secured  without  question  or  alarm  to 
Dona  Sancha. 

So,  after  breakfast,  the  affair  moved  well  enough, 
and  the  garments  were  slipped  to  me  out  of  a  barred 
window,  and  Manuel  disappeared  with  them  as  Dona 
Ynez  herself  came  from  the  patio  in  time  to  ask  if  I  was 
already  finding  myself  brown  sweethearts  among  her 
maids ! 

Over  this  we  jested,  and  I  vowed  I  was  only  there 
to  ask  of  her  health,  and  to  learn  how  my  cousin  had 
rested  at  the  end  of  all  her  adventures,  and  at  that 
the  kind  eyes  of  her  looked  sad. 

"  She  is  without  doubt  mad  with  love  for  him  — 
is  it  not  so?"  she  asked.  "I  think  she  slept  little, 
and  twice  she  sat  at  the  window  looking  out  in  the 
night,  and  listening  to  each  sound  as  if  waiting  some 
sound  of  his  step." 

"  That  listening  is  a  habit  of  the  Desert ;  I  did  like 
wise,"  I  confessed.  "  But  it  may  be  that  she  is  indeed 
deep  in  love,  and  that  she  has  her  own  anxieties.  She 
does  not  speak  of  them." 

"That  is  true;  did  ever  you  see  a  girl  so  cold  and 
proud?  Don  Antonio  insists  she  should  be  a  vicereine 
at  the  least,  even  the  padre  spoke  of  it  with  warning 
of  too  much  pride  in  youth.  But  the  Llorentes  and 
the  Riveras  have  their  own  excuse  for  pride,  and  always 
they  have  been  an  honor  to  church  and  state." 


370     THE    HOUSE    OF   THE    DAWN 

I  had  scarcely  acknowledged  properly  this  fine  com 
pliment,  when  Sancha  appeared  in  the  patio,  fastening 
yellow  roses  in  the  bodice  of  her  white  gown.  She 
had  no  pleasant  looks  for  me,  but  a  cold  decision  in 
her  voice. 

"  Juanito,  O  wise  one,"  she  said  mockingly.  "  You 
know  so  many  ways  of  this  world,  know  you  also  the 
trail  to  San  Yldefonso?  They  tell  me  it  is  only  the 
ride  of  a  day,  and  San  Yldefonso  seems  the  bottom  of 
the  well  where  Truth  lies  for  me.  I  have  asked  for 
our  horses,  and  have  the  mood  to  ride  that  way." 

"  Santa  Madre !  "  whispered  Dona  Ynez,  "  never  in 
the  world  must  she  do  so.  Another  girl  rides  with 
him  —  a  slave  girl  of  his ! " 

"  I  know,"  I  said,  and  stole  another  look  at  Sancha. 
Her  face  was  a  mask,  but  her  eyes  were  aflame  —  she 
looked  as  if  she  also  knew! 

"  If  you  ride  forth  to  the  north  take  me  as  guide," 
said  Dona  Ynez  with  sudden  thought  to  help.  "  I  was 
once  at  Santa  Cruz,  and  know  some  of  the  trails,  also 
my  husband  is  there." 

Captain  de  Lara  advised  against  this  plan,  and  of 
fered  instead  to  take  us  pleasuring  to  an  extinct  vol 
cano  not  far  away,  and  by  nightfall,  without  doubt,  the 
Lieutenant  de  Ordono  and  Don  Lorenzo  would  have 
reached  town,  also  there  were  various  trails  to  the 
north,  and  we  would  surely  miss  them  in  the  wilderness. 

Sancha  listened,  and  smiled  at  us. 

"  I  do  not  think  I  care  for  dead  volcanos,"  she  said ; 
"  there  are  too  many  living  things  of  interest  to  me.  I 
may  save  a  life  by  riding  north,  and  my  cousin  here 
knows  the  meaning  of  that." 


ONSANTAFEHILL  371 

Dona  Ynez  stared  at  her  and  crossed  herself. 

"  If  such  be  true,"  she  begged,  "  come  first,  for  the 
love  of  God,  and  tell  the  governor  or  the  padre.  Padre 
Domingo  has  safer  messengers  than  you  could  be  —  or 
any  of  us." 

"  That  is  true,"  said  Captain  de  Lara.  "  The  Holy 
Office  can  pay  its  messengers  more  than  the  state,  and 
controls  the  best.  I  heard  this  morning  a  new  thing  — 
a  Roberto  Sanchez  trapped  some  renegade  on  the  range 
for  Padre  Domingo  yesterday,  and  how,  think  you? 
Roberto  is  a  lad  from  the  far  south  and  uses  well  the 
reata;  swish,  it  circles  a  man's  shoulders,  and  drags 
him  from  a  horse.  An  Indio  carted  the  man  in,  roped 
and  tied,  under  a  load  of  corn.  He  is  now  in  the  cuartel 
back  of  the  church  waiting  the  pleasure  of  the  priests. 
One  man  with  a  greased  rope  —  and  the  job  is  done 
for  the  church,  and  no  one  in  the  town  the  wiser.  But 
for  the  state  we  would  have  been  sent  in  company,  and 
every  street  boy  know  our  errand,  and  the  result.  It 
is  true,  Excellencia,  that  if  you  desire  haste,  the  padre 
has  the  greater  power." 

My  own  interest  was  suddenly  lost  in  the  desire  of 
Sancha.  That  cuartel  back  of  the  church  held  all  my 
thought.  That  was  the  prison  for  the  Inquisition:  not 
a  strong  place,  except  by  guard  and  rope,  or  chain.  The 
story  of  the  captain  had  its  own  suggestion:  Roberto, 
who  was  a  handy  lad  with  a  reata,  and  thought  he  had 
an  honest  grudge  of  his  own  to  pay!  Padre  Domingo, 
by  whom  the  people  of  Santa  Fe  learned  our  coming! 
I  dared  not  question,  yet  I  was  sick  with  fear.  If  the 
long  arm  of  the  Inquisition  had  indeed  touched  him 
again,  it  must  have  been  in  the  dusk  of  dawn  when  he 


372     THE    HOUSE    OF    THE    DAWN 

rode  away  to  free  our  skirts  of  all  stigma  through 
comradeship  for  him. 

Small  wonder  if  Padre  Domingo  could  smile  con 
tentedly  over  the  game  he  had  come  a  thousand  miles 
to  win!  and  well  I  knew  that  but  for  the  encumbrance 
of  Sancha  and  me,  Tristan  could  have  ridden,  unher 
alded,  safely  into  New  Granada,  and  safely  out  again. 

Filled  with  dread  of  that  which  I  dared  not  voice, 
I  walked  apart  where  the  roses  grew,  and  watched  the 
wall  of  the  cuartel.  It  was  not  high,  and  looked  a  mere 
walled  square  back  of  the  church.  It  might  have  been 
a  monastery  garden  for  all  one  could  see  of  it,  but  I 
had  been  told  that  the  prison  adjoined  the  monastery 
there,  and  was  back  of  the  church.  It  was  the  place  of 
restraint  for  all  detained  by  the  Holy  Office,  and  the 
place  of  punishing  for  novices. 

It  was  again  the  very  mockings  of  fate  if  he  should 
be  chained  within  hearing  of  her  voice,  and  she  the 
honored  guest  of  the  governor.  I  remembered  the 
thing  she  had  said  to  him  on  the  terrace  roof  that  night 
at  Walpi  —  that  doors  must  ever  open  for  him  where  she 
was! 

So  oppressed  was  I,  that  I  lost  track  of  the  words 
of  others  there ;  only  Sancha  had  her  mind  decided  upon 
San  Yldefonso,  without  any  messenger,  whether 
churchly  or  military. 

Dona  Zelinda  joined  them,  and  plainly  agreed  with 
Sancha.  The  governor's  lady  had  a  heart  for  romance, 
and  Sancha  fitted  all  her  dreams  of  adventurous  love. 
She  ransacked  her  chests  for  garb  worthy  her  wear, 
and  in  her  mind's  eye  she  already  saw  every  chance 
for  the  most  sumptuous  wedding  yet  seen  in  Santa  Fe: 


ON    SANTA    F£   HILL 


373 


all  this  though  no  one  had  heard  the  bride  elect  men 
tion  Marco  by  name.  But  that,  they  all  agreed,  was 
maiden  shyness,  and  more  than  maiden  pride.  In  later 
days  Dona  Zelinda  confessed  to  me  that  Sancha  was 
overpowering  to  her  in  three  different  ways  —  as  a 
simple  convent  maid  of  high  degree,  in  the  glowing 
beauty  of  her  which  fitted  well  a  love  romance,  and 
in  the  still  pride  of  all  the  Llorentes  and  Riveras  by 
which  it  was  plain  she  would  rule  wherever  her  lines 
of  life  were  cast. 

"  Don  Juan  is  not  gallant  this  fair  morning,"  said 
Sancha  loud  enough  for  me  to  hear.  "  He  walks  apart 
and  mopes  to  show  us  he  is  weary  of  riding  beside 
a  mere  cousin.  Dona  Zelinda,  I  beg  that  you  find  for 
him  a  lady  worthy  his  fancy,  while  I  go  begging  for  a 
cavallero ! " 

"  A  fine  jest,"  I  grumbled,  "  with  all  the  presidio 
at  your  nod.  But  I  have  ridden  with  you  on  headstrong 
rides  of  folly  ere  this,  and  once  more  is  a  trifle." 

The  others  laughed,  but  she  put  her  hand  on  my 
arm  very  meekly. 

"  So  you  did,  Juanito  mine,"  she  said,  "  and  in  weari 
ness  have  you  paid  for  the  other  times;  but  —  this 
is  the  last  one  —  and  it  will  not  be  long." 

With  a  proud  or  angry  Sancha  a  man  might  argue, 
but  Sancha  with  meekness  in  her  eye  was  a  power  none 
might  resist,  and  I  swept  the  ground  with  De  Lara's 
holiday  hat,  and  bent  knee  before  her,  playing  courtier. 
She  patted  my  hair  much  as  if  I  had  been  a  faithful 
watch  dog. 

Manuel  came  with  the  horses,  and  at  sight  of  him  I 
had  a  new  fear.  I  had  no  good  reason  to  guard  Marco 


374     THE   HOUSE    OF   THE    DAWN 

from  any  justice,  yet  I  had  no  fancy  for  having  Manuel 
meet  his  pretty  daughter  on  the  highway  in  the  midst 
of  all  the  troublous  coil. 

He  looked  searchingly  at  Sancha,  and  at  the  rosary, 
and  yellow  roses. 

"The  feather  of  the  eagle  —  where?"  he  asked,  and 
Sancha  slipped  it  from  the  bosom  of  her  gown. 

"  It  was  a  pledge,"  she  said.  "  I  remember,  and  I 
keep  it." 

"  It  will  be  good  that  you  do  not  forget  ever  in  this 
land,"  he  said  guardedly.  "  It  weighs  little,  but  the 
spirit  of  it  is  big.  Also  the  day  may  dawn  when  you 
need  that  spirit." 

"  Manuel,"  she  half  whispered  that  the  others  should 
not  hear,  "  Manuel  —  there  were  two  feathers ;  you  said 
they  were  mates,  but  we  have  lost  the  mate.  Manuel 
—  can  you  help  with  the  finding?  " 

"  That  is  true,  Manuel,"  I  added,  eager  enough  to 
give  him  other  task  than  to  go  with  us.  Then  I  drew 
him  apart  while  Roque  de  Lara  helped  Sancha  and 
Dona  Ynez  to  saddle. 

I  told  him  all  I  dared,  leaving  him  to  think  that  if 
it  were  indeed  our  friend  who  had  been  roped  and 
thrown  in  prison,  that  the  man  who  did  the  roping  was 
the  woman-hunter  whose  slave  we  had  set  free,  and 
that  the  capture  was  in  vengeance. 

I  had  touched  the  right  thought,  for  the  eyes  of 
Manuel  blazed,  and  his  smile  was  wicked. 

"  I  will  learn,"  he  said.  "  Converts  of  our  clan  are 
here  with  the  padres.  The  eagle  feather  will  win 
their  heart  if  he  shows  it.  I  will  learn." 

Well  satisfied,  I  rode  out  to  join  Sancha  and  Dona 


0  j  LEi  U 1 — J  ^crLi\ . 1 L— 3 11*   J '       fl    I  l^LTL-J  L!^i-JL— Jl— 3  UL_J  J 
ON    SANTA    FE    HILL  375 

Ynez.  De  Lara  could  not  leave.  Don  Antonio  offered 
to  send  fitting  escort,  but  Sancha  wanted  only  Wisti  as 
her  guard. 

"  This  must  be  only  a  family  party,  Juanito,"  she 
said.  "  Wisti  has  been  of  us  these  many  days,  and 
Dona  Ynez  already  is  a  comrade." 

To  me  Dona  Ynez  privately  expressed  the  hope  that 
if  we  met  Marco  and  Don  Lorenzo  on  the  way,  that  it 
would  be  her  husband  the  girl  rode  with,  and  not 
Sancha's  betrothed.  Also  she  gave  as  her  opinion  that 
Sancha  had  heard  some  foolish  gossip  of  the  matter, 
else  why  this  sudden  notion  to  ride  north? 

As  we  rode,  I  noted  little  work  was  being  done,  and 
groups  of  Indio  men  were  coming  in  from  many  ways. 
They  looked  on  us  with  curious  interest,  and  some  of 
the  older  exchanged  words  with  Wisti.  Once,  when 
speaking,  he  pointed  to  Sancha  and  spoke  her  Hopi 
name,  and  an  old  man  came  over,  and  very  gravely 
looked  at  the  rosary,  and  the  feather  she  wore,  with 
its  curious  marking.  Then  he  unfastened  a  blue  bead 
of  turquoise,  slipped  it  on  a  thread  of  sinew,  and  of 
fered  it  with  a  gesture  indicating  that  she  wear  it 
on  her  wrist. 

She  did  so,  thanking  him  and  smiling  her  most  gra 
cious,  but  the  man  did  not  smile,  and  he  stood  in  the 
road  looking  after  us. 

"  That  man  is  Ruler  —  what  you  call  Cacique  of  a 
pueblo,"  said  Wisti.  "  Forget  not  his  kind  heart 
thought,  Excellencia,  for  you  he  will  not  forget." 

"  Have  you  had  such  easy  conquests  all  your  long 
road?"  asked  Dona  Ynez  wonderingly.  "You  do  not 
have  even  a  surprise  that  an  ancient  comes  out  of  the 


376     THE    HOUSE    OF    THE    DAWN 

wilderness  to  offer  you  a  jewel.  They  do  nothing  like 
that  for  me." 

"  On  the  long  trail  we  learned  to  value  each  kindness, 
and  each  one  seems  a  link  in  a  chain  of  service.  It  is 
by  no  virtue  of  my  own  that  I  am  heir  to  these,"  said 
Sancha  humbly. 

We  had  reached  the  top  of  a  long  hill  where  it  was 
worth  the  time  to  halt  and  watch  the  shadows  of  the 
clouds  drift  over  the  pastures  and  fields  of  corn.  North 
was  the  forest  range  of  the  Sangre  de  Christo,  and 
back  of  us  the  walls  of  Santa  Fe  shown  yellow,  glim 
mering  in  the  August  sun. 

"  It  looks  a  picture  of  endless  peace,"  said  Sancha, 
and  halted  her  horse,  "  yet  my  mind  is  troubled  at  the 
strange  looks  in  the  eyes  of  all  Indians'  who  pass.  Why 
should  that  strange  and  stern  old  man  have  chosen 
me  to  receive  his  gift  of  a  blue  bead?  " 

It  was  at  that  moment  of  her  perplexed  looking  back 
at  the  adobe  walls,  and  the  straggling  Indio  travelers, 
that  Dona  Ynez  did  a  quick  and  clever  thing.  She  was 
ahead  on  the  trail,  and  with  a  gesture  to  me  for  secrecy, 
she  slipped  from  her  saddle,  and  ran  forward  without 
sound.  At  the  same  moment  I  heard  the  beat  of  the 
feet  of  horses.  Sancha  was  speaking  to  Wisti  and 
heard  none  of  it. 

But  when  she  turned,  she  saw  the  empty  saddle, 
stared  at  me  in  startled  question,  but  never  voiced  it, 
for  from  the  trail  beyond  she  heard  the  voice  of  Dona 
Ynez  and  laughter,  and  then  the  tones  of  a  man,  and 
guessed  the  truth. 

Women  are  wonderful  things!  My  own  blood  was 
jumping,  and  I  fairly  shook  with  the  unexpectedness 


ON    SANTA    FE    HILL  377 

of  it  all,  but  Sancha  sat  her  horse  like  a  queen  at  a 
review,  her  face  a  cold  mask,  her  eyes  glowing  and 
steady.  She  did  not  even  urge  her  horse  one  step 
nearer,  but  held  him  in  his  place  on  the  very  summit  of 
the  hill. 

Then,  up  from  the  trail  of  the  scrub  oak,  walked  Dona 
Ynez  with  the  arm  of  her  husband  about  her.  He  led 
his  horse,  and  back  of  them  rode  a  young  Indian  girl 
of  beauty  and  wistful  eyes. 

The  saints  alone  knew  how  the  wife  of  Don  Lorenzo 
had  so  quickly  commanded  her  husband  in  one  breath 
less  sentence,  but  command  him  she  did. 

"  This  is  my  husband,  Serior  Tafoya,"  she  said,  smil 
ing  and  elated  at  her  triumph.  "  I  heard  his  voice  and 
slipped  down  to  give  him  the  great  surprise.  And 
see  how  thoughtful  he  has  been  to  bring  me  a  maid 
who  is  pretty  as  a  painted  saint ! " 

I  agreed  that  the  maid  was  good  to  gaze  upon,  and 
knew  I  had  heard  of  her  beauty  in  the  Jemez  mountains. 
She  looked  puzzled  and  even  frightened,  glancing  from 
one  to  the  other  of  us,  and  turning  her  horse  in  the 
road. 

But  I  rested  my  hand  on  the  bridle,  while  Don 
Lorenzo  bent  over  the  hand  of  Sancha,  and  spoke  his 
wonder  at  meeting  a  lady  of  Old  Spain  on  a  hill  in 
New  Granada. 

He  had  not  seen  the  messenger  sent  north,  neither 
had  Don  Marco.  He  had  cut  short  his  stay  in  Santa 
Cruz  for  the  reason  that  there  were  strange,  treasonable 
matters  going  forward  in  the  north,  and  he  felt  his 
duty  was  to  bring  warning  to  Governor  Otermin  at 
once;  more  of  a  guard  was  needed  at  Santa  Cruz. 


378     THE    HOUSE    OF   THE    DAWN 

Lieutenant  de  Ordono  felt  the  same  regarding  San  Ylde- 
fonso;  both  were  riding  with  all  haste  to  make  report. 

Sancha  had  uttered  no  word,  had  only  clasped  hands 
with  Don  Lorenzo,  and  smiled  her  gracious  greeting, 
and  the  smile  of  Sancha  had  a  satisfying  message  of 
its  own.  But  through  that  still  smile  of  hers,  and  the 
explaining  words  of  the  puzzled  man,  I  could  see  that 
her  every  sense  was  centered  on  listening  —  listening! 

I  could  tell  the  very  instant  she  detected  the  sound 
of  hoof  beats  above  the  nervous  chatter  of  Dona  Ynez, 
for  her  shoulders  squared,  and  the  smile  did  not  vanish, 
but  it  did  change.  By  the  suppressed  excitement  of 
Dona  Ynez  she  knew  there  was  something  concealed 
from  her. 

As  I  learned  later  —  many  terrible  days  later,  when 
the  Tafoyas  and  I  camped  together  for  the  winter  at 
San  Lorenzo  —  Dona  Ynez  had  rushed  through  the 
thicket  to  meet  them,  and  bade  Marco  de  Ordono  halt 
in  his  tracks  long  enough  to  recall  all  his  sins  for  con 
fession,  while  she  claimed  the  Indio  maid  and  saved  him 
his  honor. 

More  than  that  there  was  no  moment  to  speak,  for 
her  husband  had  got  out  of  the  saddle,  and  she  drew 
him  away,  leading  the  horse  of  pretty  Marta.  Marco 
did  halt  for  the  reason  that  Dona  Ynez  appeared  ter 
ribly  in  earnest,  but  his  list  of  sins  was  brief  according 
to  his  reckoning,  for  his  halt  was  only  so  long  as  one 
might  count  a  hundred  on  his  fingers,  and  then  the 
forced  chatter  of  Dona  Ynez  halted  on  her  lips,  and  she 
made  much  to  do  about  getting  in  the  saddle  again, 
for  she  heard  his  horse  coming. 

Sancha  saw  him  first,  as  she  was  highest,  and  he 


came  upwards,  his  hat  in  his  hand,  and  his  face  lifted 
as  if  seeing  visions  of  heaven  instead  of  a  slender  maid 
who  sat  her  horse  well,  and  watched  his  coming  with  a 
look  mocking  and  strange. 

No  one  spoke  because  of  that  look,  and  Dona  Ynez 
drew  a  sobbing  breath,  half  of  fear.  Truly  it  was  a 
strange  welcome  for  so  handsome  a  gallant.  Me  he 
did  not  see  because  of  the  bulk  of  Don  Lorenzo's 
blankets  back  of  the  saddle. 

Thus  it  was  Sancha  who  was  first  to  speak  —  Sancha 
of  the  deep,  sweet  voice,  and  the  strange  smile. 

"  The  way  has  been  long,  Don  Alphard,  long  as  your 
trail  across  the  sky,"  she  said. 

He  bowed  to  the  horn  of  his  saddle,  and  gazed  at 
her  in  open  admiration,  and  wonder,  and  did  not  know 
her! 

"  Excellencia,"  he  began  with  adulation  in  his  tones 
and  his  eyes.  Dona  Ynez  strove  to  speak,  but  Sancha 
lifted  her  hand  in  quick  warning. 

"  Wisti,"  she  said.  "  The  gentleman  does  not  remem 
ber  my  name.  Will  you  tell  him  the  name  I  have? 
the  name  given  me  in  the  house  of  Lenmana  ere  we 
came  east  across  the  Desert?  " 

"  It  is  Poli-kota,  and  the  thought  of  it  is  the  '  white 
butterfly,'  Sefior,"  stated  Wisti  as  he  was  bid.  "  So 
the  Excellencia  is  to  us,  and  to  our  clans,  the  White 
Butterfly  Lady." 

"  A  name  of  exceeding  beauty,  Excellencia,"  said  the 
bewildered  gallant.  "I  —  I  appreciate  the  honor  of 
being  told.  But  you  mention  that  I  do  not  remember 
—  I,  if  ever  I  had  known  —  " 

He  halted,  and  let  his  eyes  speak  for  him.    They  had 


38o      THE    HOUSE    OF   THE    DAWN 

been  eyes  well  trained  in  service  to  ladies  fair,  but  the 
smile  of  Sancha  was  not  encouraging. 

"  Then  the  name  is  not  a  name  of  meaning  for  you, 
Don  Alphard?"  she  asked. 

"  Only  that  the  beauty  of  it  is  well  placed,"  he  said 
glibly  enough.  "  But  —  may  I  correct  you,  Excellencia? 
The  name  you  give  me  is  one  I  have  not  heard,  it  has 
a  sound  of  the  Moor  or  the  Arab." 

"  So  it  has,"  she  conceded,  "  and  yours  is  —  ?  " 

"  A  sound  Christian  name,  and  at  your  service,"  he 
said  with  another  bow,  "  Marcos  de  Ordofio." 

He  looked  so  handsome  in  his  eagerness,  and  his 
admiring  wonder,  that  it  was  an  effort  to  stand  speech 
less  there  and  let  him  condemn  himself  out  of  his  own 
mouth.  But  if  it  was  the  end  of  her  love  trail,  why 
not  let  her  decide  it  her  own  way?  So  I  thought  and 
held  my  tongue.  Dona  Ynez  and  Don  Lorenzo  strove 
to  conceal  their  smiles  at  what  they  deemed  but  a  little 
Comedy  of  Love  begun  long  ago  in  Spain  and  played 
out  on  the  Santa  Fe  hill  of  the  north  frontier.  . 

Sancha  saw  it  all,  but  Marco  saw  only  her. 

"  Ride  more  close,  Senor  de  Ordofio,  since  that  is  the 
name  you  have  preference  for,"  she  said.  "  I  would 
see  your  hand." 

"  I  think  you  mock  me,  Excellencia,"  he  said,  as  he 
drew  his  horse  touching  shoulder  with  hers,  "  and  I  do 
not  know  the  game  you  play  —  but  if  it  is  for  your 
pleasure,  I  will  be  either  cavallero  or  clown,"  and  he 
held  out  his  hand. 

"  You  wear  no  ring,  Senor,"  she  said.  "  If  you  are 
the  man  I  brought  message  for,  he  wore  a  ring.  Dona 
Perfecta  spoke  of  its  color." 


ON    SANTA    F£   HILL 

"  Dona  Perfecta?  "  he  said  eagerly.  "  Yes,  she  did 
know  me  to  wear  a  ring  —  " 

"A  ruby  —  was  it  not?"  she  asked  mockingly  smil 
ing,  and  he  smiled  back,  straight  into  her  eyes. 

"  It  was  not  a  ruby,  Excellencia.  If  you  have  a 
message  from  Dona  Perfecta,  it  was  to  a  man  of  an 
emerald  ring ;  but  why  seek  to  confuse  me  by  the  strange 
Arab  name?  " 

"  Can  you  show  me  the  ring,  senor  ?  "  she  asked. 
"  How  may  I  give  the  message  unless  the  proof  be 
sure?" 

"  Nay,  I  can  describe  it  as  she  saw  it,"  he  said  en 
tering  into  her  mood,  "  but  the  ring  itself  I  cannot 
show;  it  was  lost  in  the  Desert." 

"So?"  she  said  with  lifted  brows.  "Well,  there 
was  also  a  glove  —  a  maiden's  glove  of  white,  with  a 
fringe  of  silver.  Was  the  glove  lost  to  the  same  slender 
hand,  Marco  de  Ordono?" 

Her  voice  was  like  steel.  Dona  Ynez  and  her  hus 
band  ceased  smiling,  and  Marco  flamed  red  as  he  drew 
back. 

"  I  know  not  the  glove,  nor  ever  saw  it,"  he  said, 
"  nor  do  I  understand  —  " 

Sancha  put  up  her  hand. 

"  I  do  believe  you,  Senor  de  Ordono !  "  she  said,  and 
drew  a  deep  breath,  turning  her  face  to  the  sky. 
"  Mother  of  God !  How  glad  I  am  to  believe !  "  Then 
in  a  very  different  way  she  added,  "  Who  wrote  the 
letters,  Marco?  " 

"Excellencia?"  and  he  stared  at  her  incredulous, 
yet  fearful,  and  I  got  out  from  behind  the  horse  and 
stood  beside  Sancha. 


382      THE    HOUSE    OF   THE    DAWN 

"  Are  you  entranced,  Marco?  "  I  asked.  "  Have  you 
no  wit  left  to  tell  you  the  truth?  " 

Then  he  saw,  and  went  deadly  white. 

"  That  damned  Tristan ! "  he  said.  "  God  send  the 
priests  burn  him  at  the  stake !  " 

"  Tristan !  always  Tristan !  "  she  said  with  a  sob  in 
her  throat.  "  God  send  that  I  find  him  first !  "  then  she 
looked  at  me,  and  laughed. 

"  Tell  him,  Juanito,  where  he  can  find  his  ring,"  she 
said ;  "  and  you  tell  him  also  that  it  might  be  as  well 
to  send  that  comely  slave  of  his  back  to  her  hills.  I 
heard  gossip  about  the  matter  under  my  window  last 
night.  You  have  tried  to  trick  me  —  all  of  you !  Come ; 
—  Wisti,  it  is  good  for  me  this  day  that  I  have  red 
brothers  of  the  Desert." 

"  Yes  —  it  is  good  for  you,"  agreed  Wisti  quietly ; 
and  she  wheeled  her  horse,  and  touched  him  with  the 
spur.  It  was  the  best  animal  of  Don  Antonio,  and 
little  used  to  urging.  He  fairly  skimmed  the  ground 
over  the  sloping  range  to  Sante  Fe,  with  the  Indian  as 
close  to  her  as  his  horse  could  keep  him. 

There  is  little  to  tell  of  that  ride  back  for  the  rest 
of  us.  Dona  Ynez  openly  wept  at  the  wreck  of  all  her 
pretty  plans  for  the  lovers.  Don  Lorenzo  asked  if  the 
beautiful  Dona  Sancha  was  not  a  mad  woman,  and 
Marco  rode  sullenly  beside  us,  cursing  his  luck,  and 
cursing  Tristan  Rueda  whom  he  was  glad  to  know 
was  a  damned  Jew  who  would  be  garroted  or  burned 
some  fine  morning.  And  when  he  got  tired  of  plans  for 
Tristan,  he  flung  an  extra  curse  at  me,  and  even  at 
the  poor  Indian  girl  who  strove  timidly  to  express 
sorrow  that  some  shadow  had  fallen  over  him. 


ON    SANTA   F£   HILL  383 

For  myself,  I  rode  along  in  the  unhappy  group  feel 
ing  that  one  curse  more  or  less  could  not  make  dif 
ference  to  me  after  her  bitter  words.  Marco  had  been 
given  his  deserts,  but  I  could  see  no  justice  in  her  choice 
of  that  Indio  brother. 


CHAPTER  XXI 
THE  INSURRECTION  OF  1680 

THAT  was  the  day  of  panic  for  all  to  remember, 
for  the  news  Don  Lorenzo  brought  of  the  north 
ern  pueblos  was  no  news  to  the  Holy  Office, 
or  to  Governor  Antonio  Otermin  when  we  rode 
into  Santa  Fe. 

Two  Indians  from  Tesuque  had  crept  away  from  that 
pueblo  under  cover  of  the  scrub  brush,  and  in  fear  of 
their  lives,  and  the  word  they  brought  made  clear  all  the 
strange  things  of  the  clans  from  Tusayan  to  Santa  Fe. 

For  the  word  was  out  secretly  over  all  the  land,  and 
in  two  more  risings  of  the  sun,  every  clan  and  tribe  was 
joined  in  conspiracy  to  rise  against  the  Castilian  priests. 
In  every  pueblo  they  would  wipe  from  the  frontier  all 
trace  of  the  white  man's  god,  under  whom  they  and 
their  children  were  made  as  slaves! 

So  secret  was  the  plot  that  only  the  older  men  knew 
all.  The  informers  begged  that  if  they  could  not  be 
protected,  they  be  killed  quickly  by  the  men  of  Don 
Antonio,  and  not  be  given  up  as  captives.  Pope,  the 
leader  of  the  revolution,  had  strangled  Nicholas  Bua, 
the  husband  of  his  daughter,  and  the  governor  of  San 
Juan  de  los  Caballeros,  because  his  loyalty  to  the  cause 
of  the  insurrectos  was  even  suspected. 

Governor  Otermin  was  given,  according  to  this  in- 

384 


THE    INSURRECTION    OF    1680   385 

formation,  only  two  days  in  which  to  take  all  his  people, 
and  his  loyal  Indians,  and  remove  to  the  south,  for  it 
was  too  late  for  the  saving  of  Santa  Cruz,  or  any  white 
people  outside  of  Santa  Fe,  and  no  hope  for  them  unless 
the  warning  was  taken  quickly.  When  I  heard  that  I 
remembered  the  word  of  Hongovi  in  farewell  —  the 
little  far-off  trembling  of  the  wind  before  the  tornado 
—  and  against  his  urging  we  had  riden  into  the  tornado 
path! 

The  priests  doubted  the  extent  of  conspiracy,  and 
Padre  Domingo  had  the  informers  cast  into  the  cuartel 
for  whipping  unless  they  told  all  names  concerned. 
They  would,  or  could,  tell  no  names  except  of  course 
that  of  Pope,  the  magician  whom  all  knew  had  a  fine 
record  as  a  breeder  of  troubles.  Then  there  was  Jaca 
of  far  Taos,  and  Francisco  of  San  Yldefonso,  but  of 
Tesuque,  or  of  Santa  Fe,  they  would  give  no  names. 

"  Five  years  ago  when  Fray  Andres  Duran,  of  San 
Yldefonso,  was  bewitched  by  the  shamans  of  the  Tegua 
nation,  you  all  know  the  only  way  to  find  justice  for 
that  holy  man,"  stated  Padre  Domingo.  "  The  records 
tell  that  forty-three  Indians  were  whipped  and  enslaved, 
and  four  were  publicly  hanged  as  a  warning  to  all  the 
clans,  and  it  served.  When  Pope,  that  red  enemy  of 
Christ,  marched  here  with  his  seventy  followers  to  ran 
som  the  forty-seven  conspirators,  he  and  every  rebel  of 
them  all  should  have  been  put  to  death  by  the  state  or 
the  Holy  Office.  There  has  been  too  much  leniency 
with  these  infidels.  That  was  the  time  to  nip  all 
threatened  insurrections  in  the  bud." 

Governor  Otermin  listened,  but  as  fast  as  his  pen 
could  write  orders  he  was  sending  calls  to  the  south 


386      THE    HOUSE    OF    THE    DAWN 

for  all  scattered  troops.  The  lieutenant-governor  was 
at  Ysleta  with  extra  men,  and  his  adjutant,  Pedro  Leiva, 
was  at  Alamillo  with  forty  others. 

"  All  this  is  as  you  say,  padre,"  he  agreed,  "  but  in 
that  day  Governor  Juan  Frecencio  did  his  best,  accord 
ing  to  his  light,  when  he  called  special  tribunal  to 
investigate.  He  was,  as  I  am,  Padre,  but  one  officer 
with  a  handful  of  soliders  to  guard  this  province  against 
thousands  of  the  wild  tribes.  We  have  begged  for 
colonists  here,  and  now  that  we  have  them,  we  must 
risk  all  things  for  their  protection." 

"  You  forget,  Don  Antonio,  that  this  word  of  insur 
rection  means  a  religious  war  and  not  a  political  one. 
It  is  final  battle  for  their  false  gods  against  the  True 
Faith.  You  will  have  much  more  than  your  handful 
of  soldiers,  Excellency;  you  will  have  back  of  you  the 
Holy  Office,  and  all  its  converts." 

"  But  who  will  guarantee  the  converts  in  the  face  of 
swarms  of  pagans  who  number  thousands?"  asked 
Governor  Otermin. 

"Are  not  the  two  Tesuque  informers,  converts?" 
returned  Fray  Francisco,  the  superior  of  the  monastery, 
with  a  desire  to  smooth  over  the  little  difficulty.  "  They 
show  zeal  for  the  cause  in  the  face  of  estrangement 
from  their  people." 

"  Ay,"  agreed  the  governor.  "  But  they  refuse  to 
give  names  of  conspirators  here  within  our  walls,  and 
zeal  without  knowledge  may  lead  us  into  traps  of 
danger." 

"  Don  Antonio,"  said  the  superior  with  quiet  mean 
ing,  "  the  report  of  the  two  men  was  made  first  to  their 
confessor.  This  makes  it  our  affair  to  see  that  they 


THE    INSURRECTION    OF    1680  387 

do  speak.  Padre  Domingo  will  see  to  this.  They  have 
been  thrown  into  the  prison  with  a  purpose;  every 
man  within  the  wall  will  report  their  words  or  take 
the  whip  in  the  plaza,  for  all  to  witness." 

"  Not  the  men  who  are  prisoned  there  for  other 
and  trifling  faults,"  protested  Don  Antonio. 

"  A  spy  has  been  chained  with  them  to  make  them 
talk,"  said  Padre  Domingo  easily;  "never  fear  but  that 
we  will  get  at  the  right  of  it  with  no  loss  of  time." 

"  Padre  Domingo,"  ventured  Don  Antonio,  perplexed 
and  troubled,  "  though  you  are  appointed  Inquisitor 
here  by  the  Reverend  Father,  you  are  new  to  this  north 
land.  You  have  not  lived  here  with  the  records  of 
these  people  as  have  I.  May  I  show  you  what  has  been 
done  in  one  generation,  and  the  difficulties  made  by 
the  Brotherhood  for  the  governors  of  this  province?  In 
1640  there  was  special  religious  exercise  in  the  whip 
ping,  imprisonment,  and  hanging  of  forty  natives  be 
cause  they  refused  to  be  converts  to  our  faith.  That 
ecclesiastical  action  brought  on  a  revolt  to  be  quelled 
by  the  soldiers  of  the  presidio  here.  The  Jemez  people 
were  also  driven  to  rebel  for  like  reasons,  and  never 
laid  down  their  arms  until  twenty-nine  of  the  leaders 
were  punished  by  General  Arguello  through  death  and 
slavery.  In  1650  the  natives  realized  that  the  kindly 
help  their  fathers  had  given  the  Castilians  as  friends, 
was  exacted  from  the  children  as  slaves,  and  the  infrac 
tion  of  religious  rules  which  they  did  not  comprehend, 
sent  many  a  man  for  life  to  the  mines.  There  was  then 
another  rebellion,  but  again  a  convert  betrayed  the 
leaders,  and  Governor  Concho  had  the  task  of  hanging 
nine,  and  selling  the  others  into  slavery.  In  1675  the 


388      THE    HOUSE    OF    THE    DAWN 

feeling  against  the  superior  of  San  Yldefonso  became 
too  bitter  to  quell,  and  the  governor,  Don  Juan,  had  the 
unpleasant  task  of  enslaving  many  of  the  leading  men, 
and  hanging  others.  These  are  but  a  few  of  the  rec 
ords,  but  they  are  enough  to  show  two  things,  senor: 
first,  that  the  strong  leaders  of  the  tribes  oppose  con 
versions,  because  it  has  always  been  a  convert  who 
betrayed  his  own  people  in  an  uprising  against  eccle 
siastical  authority;  second,  that  the  civil  officers  of  this 
province  are  continually  occupied  in  the  quelling  of  re 
ligious  troubles,  leaving  neither  men  or  money  for  the 
efficient  development  of  colonial  enterprise.  By  these 
figures,  Your  Reverence  will  plainly  see  that  neither 
deaths,  or  slavery,  or  use  of  the  whip,  has  ever  done 
aught  but  check  them  in  a  temporary  way.  It  is  a  lesson 
of  years,  Padre  Domingo,  and  if  these  men  who  have 
turned  traitors  to  their  tribe,  in  order  to  serve  us,  are 
whipped  today  in  the  public  plaza,  I  dare  not  even  say 
I  could  guard  the  man  who  used  the  whip!  I  would 
do  less  than  my  duty  if  I  laid  not  this  matter  before 
you  in  all  clearness.  You,  Padre,  have  come  from 
Mexico  where  there  is  a  standing  army  to  protect  the 
church.  I  am  hundreds  of  leagues  from  an  army,  and 
have  only  one  hundred  and  twenty  men  against  twenty 
thousand  natives !  " 

"  You  protect  yourself  well,  Governor  Otermin,"  said 
Padre  Domingo,  who  had  listened  with  half  closed, 
watchful  eyes.  "  But  you  forget  that  while  the  local 
government  of  state  is,  and  must  be,  temporal,  the  rule 
of  Holy  Church  remains  eternal!  Bernardo  de  Man- 
dizaval  forgot  that  in  the  fifties,  and  was  removed  from 
the  governor's  seat  by  the  power  of  the  Holy  Office. 


THE    INSURRECTION    OF    1680  389 

Governor  Penalosa  repeated  that  forgetfulness,  and  in 
stead  of  the  palace  of  a  governor  here,  he  was  given 
the  cell  of  a  prison  in  Mexico.  Don  Antonio,  these 
are  things  to  remember  when  the  Holy  Office  has  plans 
to  learn  the  enemies  of  the  True  Faith  in  this  land !  " 

"  On  your  head  be  it ! "  said  Governor  Otermin. 
"  This  is  not  the  time  for  a  house  to  divide  against 
itself.  What  I  can,  I  will  do,  but  the  word  of  these 
men  of  Tesuque  was  very  plain.  We  have  two  days 
before  the  outbreak  is  planned.  If  we  make  a  public 
example  of  them  in  order  to  learn  more,  we  only  hasten 
the  evil  hour.  We  need  every  hour  of  grace,  Your 
Reverence." 

All  this  had  come  too  quickly  to  bring  enlightenment, 
or  clear  comprehension  to  my  mind.  I  was  stunned  by 
sight  and  hearing  of  these  leaders  of  men  as  they  calmly 
faced  the  thing  we  must  prepare  for.  Don  Lorenzo 
and  Marco  were  detained  because  of  their  reports,  and 
questioned  as  to  their  suspicions  of  pueblo  principals, 
while  I  was  unnoticed  at  the  edge  of  the  group. 

Curiously  enough,  my  thoughts  were  of  Sancha  in 
the  Indio  dress  rather  than  the  argument,  of  the  men. 
I  saw  them  with  my  eyes,  but  in  a  strange  double  way 
I  saw  her  with  my  mind,  and  every  little  act  of  the 
trail  from  Walpi  flashed  before  me  —  the  Indian  gifts 
of  childish  things,  which  yet  became  important  things, 
ran  between  the  gray  padre  and  me  as  beads  on  a  string. 
Hopi  and  Navajo  and  Jemez  —  she  wore  their  pledge 
—  and  the  stern  old  Tehua  of  the  morning  had  added 
his  blue  bead  to  the  others!  All  this  at  first  had  been 
because  of  Tristan,  and  the  rosary  of  Don  Fernan,  and 
now,  I  could  but  think  it  was  for  her  own  sake. 


3QO      THE    HOUSE    OF    THE    DAWN 

My  head  was  in  a  whirl  with  it.  I  forgot  her  dis 
dain  of  us  all  on  the  hill,  and  when  the  superior  and 
Padre  Domingo  left  the  governor  to  the  planning  of 
guards,  I  slipped  out,  and  made  my  way  to  the  sala. 

Dona  Zelinda  was  there,  and  in  tears;  not  for  dread 
of  self,  but  for  Don  Antonio,  and  his  probable  fate  if 
he  opposed  the  officers  of  the  Inquisition.  Her  own 
memory  was  alive  to  the  discipline  former  governors 
had  suffered  at  their  hands. 

"  It  is  days  like  this  in  which  we  remember  how  far 
we  are  from  Mexico ! "  she  lamented ;  but  Dona  Ynez, 
who  had  wept  at  what  she  thought  a  quarrel  of  lovers 
on  the  hill,  now  sat  with  wide,  dry  eyes,  and  pale  face. 

"  I  do  not  think  anyone  has  ever  seen  a  day  like 
this,"  she  said.  "  Lorenzo  tells  me  that  on  one  excuse 
or  another,  the  Indies  swarm  the  hills.  It  is  too  early 
for  the  hunt,  yet  in  the  north  there  are  bands  of  them 
with  hunting  spears." 

I  asked  for  Sancha,  but  was  told  she  had  not  come 
in.  Our  Indio,  Manuel,  had  been  waiting  for  her  with 
some  message,  and  at  once  she  had  ridden  to  the  mon 
astery  with  Wisti  to  see  the  prior  there. 

"  But  that  is  Fray  Francisco,  and  he  has  been  with 
Governor  Otermin  in  consultation,"  I  said.  "  This  is 
no  day  for  careless  riding  in  a  new  town.  Wisti  is  a 
treasure  in  a  desert,  but  scarce  a  proper  guide  for  Santa 
Fe.  I  must  find  her,  and  make  her  listen,  though  she 
hate  me  for  it." 

"The  saints  guard  her!"  said  Dona  Ynez.  "I  had 
forgotten  her  temper  out  there.  Her  anger  was  nat 
ural  when  she  found  the  maid  was  his  —  and  the  poor 
maid  was  not  to  blame  either.  He  turned  her  to  me 


THE    INSURRECTION    OF    1680  391 

as  lightly  as  you  would  cast  an  old  cloak  —  yet  the  girl 
is  worth  a  good  price." 

"  I  lack  even  a  marivada,  and  so  does  my  cousin,"  I 
said,  "  but  we  know  the  father  of  that  girl,  and  he  has 
done  us  kindness.  Will  you  sell,  at  your  own  price, 
and  await  long  the  paying?" 

"What  day  is  this  to  trade  for  slaves?"  she  asked. 
"  We  will  do  well  to  save  ourselves,  and  every  extra 
Indio  is  a  danger.  Take  the  girl,  Don  Juan,  and  get 
her  quickly  as  may  be  out  of  our  sight.  She  weeps 
with  fright  in  the  kitchen." 

I  scarce  knew  what  was  in  my  mind  to  do,  but  as  I 
went  out  in  the  sunshine  of  the  street,  Manuel  stood, 
watchful,  and  erect,  in  the  narrow  strip  of  shade.  His 
eyes  were  to  the  street  of  the  monastery  and  I  knew  he 
waited  the  sight  of  Sancha  even  before  he  spoke. 

"  The  mate  of  the  feather  is  tied  with  ropes  and  is 
behind  prison  bars,"  he  said.  "  The  padre  has  done  it, 
and  not  the  governor.  A  man  of  my  clan  is  convert, 
and  tells  me." 

"  Does  he  tell  you  of  your  daughter?  "  I  asked,  and 
he  regarded  me  gravely. 

"  He  does,  and  she  is  in  San  Yldefonso,"  he  said.  "  I 
have  not  seen  her,  yet  I  have  found  her  at  last." 

"  Come,"  I  said,  and  led  him  back  through  the  patio 
to  where,  under  the  ramada  of  a  giant  grape  vine,  the 
poor,  disdained  young  slave,  wept  because  forsaken 
among  strange  faces. 

He  turned  to  me  with  a  wonderful  look  on  his  face 
as  he  had  sight  of  her  bent  head.  In  another  instant 
she  was  in  his  arms,  and  the  people  who  think  the 
Indio  disdains  love,  should  have  seen  them  there! 


392     THE    HOUSE    OF    THE    DAWN 

"  She  is  the  gift  to  you  of  Dona  Sancha,"  I  said. 
"  There  is  no  one  to  stand  in  her  trail  home." 

"  And  the  man?  "  he  asked. 

"Dona  Sancha  was  to  be  wife  to  the  man,  but  now 
she  will  never  be  his  wife,"  I  answered. 

"  That  is  so,"  he  said  gravely.  "  No  one  shall  be  his 
wife." 

Not  until  afterwards  did  I  give  thought  to  his  speech 
—  and  then  it  gave  me  many  thoughts. 

"  I  would  say  that  you  send  her  quickly  to  safety," 
I  suggested.  "  This  looks  a  busy  day  even  without 
women  or  girls  to  care  for." 

He  looked  at  me  very  steadily,  and  nodded  his  head 
in  assent,  and  he  went  with  her  out  the  back  way,  while 
I  started  again  to  look  for  Sancha. 

In  the  plaza  I  saw  the  man  Roberto  with  one  of  his 
comrades,  and  he  lifted  his  hand  and  laughed  at  me. 

"  Will  he  again  play  dog  in  the  manger  with  the 
maid  of  another  man?"  he  jeered.  "A  fine  'padre' 
you  take  the  trail  with,  Senor!  He  fooled  you  well 
with  his  high  words  and  his  monk's  robe,  for  he  was  a 
renegade  heretic  in  borrowed  plumes." 

"  It  was  you  who  lay  in  wait  and  roped  him  ?  "  I 
asked. 

"  None  other,  and  he  is  safe  bound  now  with  the 
other  apostates  they  are  bringing  out  for  whipping." 

"You  did  this  at  the  word  of  Padre  Domingo?"  I 
asked. 

"Why  not?  He  is  made  Inquisitor  General  here  to 
deal  with  the  red  heretics,  and  that  is  an  office  higher 
than  governor,  and  higher  than  superior  of  the  mon 
astery.  When  he  speaks,  we  all  jump." 


THE    INSURRECTION    OF    1680  393 

"  So  it  seems,"  I  said,  pondering  in  my  mind  if  any 
power  might  secure  Tristan  respite  there  on  the  frontier. 
That  mention  of  the  whipping  made  me  sick.  Few  men, 
Indio  or  white,  would  retain  secrets  of  danger  under 
the  lash  of  the  Inquisition.  Padre  Domingo  meant  to 
show  the  clans  that  no  partiality  would  be  shown.  A 
white  skin  was  no  safeguard  when  the  fight  for  Holy 
Faith  was  in  question. 

I  felt  all  this  rather  than  thought  it,  and  as  the  guard 
suddenly  swung  into  the  plaza  ahead  of  the  priests,  I 
knew  what  it  meant.  They  were  bringing  out  all  the 
prisoners  the  better  to  flog  the  poor  Tesuque  men  into 
telling  more  perhaps  than  they  could  humanly  know. 
If  ever  I  could  win  a  word  of  help  from  the  governor, 
this  was  the  time. 

But  the  bell  of  the  monastery  was  ringing  a  doleful 
note  by  which  the  people  were  warned  of  executions, 
or  special  disciplining  of  prisoners,  and  the  houses  were 
soon  emptied,  and  the  little  lanes  and  the  plaza  filled 
with  wondering,  questioning  people.  Yet  among  them 
all,  I  could  get  no  sight  of  Governor  Otermin.  Don 
Lorenzo  I  saw,  and  De  Lara,  each  fully  armed,  and 
very  grave  of  face,  as  was  every  soldier  who  knew  the 
truth. 

"  Find  him  —  for  the  love  of  God !  find  the  governor 
for  me !  "  I  asked  each  frantically.  "  There  is  a  man 
of  blood,  of  rank,  of  dignity,  roped  there  among  those 
bewildered  cattle!  Get  an  order  for  a  shot,  and  quick 
death  for  him  if  it  must  be  —  the  death  a  soldier  should 
have  —  but  no  touch  of  a  lash  to  fall  on  him !  " 

Roque  de  Lara  caught  and  held  me,  and  Marco  de 
Ordofio  stood  near  and  laughed. 


394     THE    HOUSE    OF   THE   DAWN 

"I  owe  you  a  shot  for  your  damned  treason  to  me, 
Juan  Rivera,"  he  said,  "  and  I  wish  it  were  a  whip 
promised  to  your  own  back." 

"  Marco ! "  I  begged,  "  for  the  honor  of  your  own 
house,  stand  by  the  honor  of  your  house,  stand  by 
the  friendships  of  the  house !  He  was  loyal  to  you  — 
loyal  all  your  life.  Your  fathers  were  faithful,  and  this 
is  your  one  chance,  Marco,  your  last  chance !  " 

I  only  remember  he  pushed  me  back  against  De  Lara, 
and  said  I  was  a  crazy  fool,  and  that  he  knew  nothing 
of  my  meaning.  Then,  in  the  midst  of  his  words,  he 
gave  a  shout  of  exulting,  and  laughed. 

He  had  seen  Tristan,  whose  hands  were  roped,  and 
whose  head  was  bandaged  with  blood-stained  linen. 
The  concealing  banda  prevented  me  from  seeing  his 
face  until  he  was  very  close,  but  the  laugh  of  Marco 
told  me  that  hate  had  found  him  first. 

"  Hi !  the  Judaizing  heretic !  "  he  called  above  the 
tolling  of  the  bell,  "  and  that  is  the  friend  of  rank  and 
blood  and  dignity  for  whom  he  asks  a  soldier's 
courtesy ! " 

"  Yes,  it  is !  "  I  shouted  back ;  "  of  blood  more  nearly 
royal  than  our  own,  Marco!  The  blood  of  men  who 
were  high  priests  of  God  before  Christ  was  born!  He 
asks  nothing,  and  we  owe  him  much.  Find  the  gov 
ernor  ;  this  is  our  day  for  payment ! " 

The  yellow  face  of  Padre  Domingo  pushed  my  way 
through  the  crowd. 

"Is  this  so?"  he  asked.  "Open  confession  is  good 
for  the  soul,  Don  Juan.  For  what  do  you  owe  the 
heretic  in  bonds  there?  " 

"  For  life,   and  a  safe  journey  here,"   I   answered 


THE    INSURRECTION    OF    1680  395 

boldly.  "  He  could  have  saved  himself  in  comfort,  yet 
strove  to  shelter  us." 

"  Ah?  "  he  said  with  a  cold  smile,  "  and  what  is  the 
debt  of  Sefior  de  Ordono?" 

"  That  is  for  him  to  say,"  and  I  turned  to  Marco  im 
ploring. 

"  Alcatraz,  turn  your  face  and  look  on  these  men," 
commanded  Padre  Domingo.  "  You  have  heard  their 
words.  What  is  the  debt  they  owe  to  you?" 

The  eyes  of  Tristan  rested  one  instant  on  mine,  a 
wonderful  look,  and  passed  me  by  to  look  on  Marco. 

"  The  boy  owes  me  not  anything,  Senor  Padre,"  he 
said  clearly,  "  and  the  man  owes  me  for  the  life  of  my 
foster  sister  whom  he  stole,  and  left  to  die  with  Indians 
of  Sonora." 

There  was  a  strange  hush  as  he  spoke,  and  Don  Lor 
enzo  glanced  meaningly  at  De  Lara.  All  of  them  knew 
of  poor  little  Anita. 

But  back  of  me  I  heard  a  cry  from  Sancha. 

"O  Ivava!     Kahn  Alcatraz!  your  sister?" 

She  had  ridden  up,  pushing  her  horse  slowly  through 
the  mass  of  people  to  the  portal  of  the  palace,  and  I 
had  not  seen  her  coming.  Wisti  was  close  behind,  and 
there  was  a  strange  meeting  of  Indian  glances  when 
she  called  "  Ivava." 

But  Marco  scowled  in  fury. 

"  What  is  this  heretic  to  you,  Dona  Sancha,  Mar- 
quesa  de  Llorente?"  he  demanded.  "Does  a  lady  of 
Spain  claim  knowledge  of  outlaws  in  the  street?" 

"What  is  he  to  me?"  she  repeated  clearly.  "He 
saved  me  from  Indio  slavery!  he  has  gone  hungry 
that  I  might  be  fed !  he  clothed  me  when  I  went  naked ! 


3g6     THE    HOUSE    OF   THE    DAWN 

All  I  have  to  put  in  the  balance  would  weigh  but  little 
towards  my  debt  to  him!  Padre  Domingo,  will  you  do 
me  the  favor  to  find  for  me  the  governor,  and  the  father 
superior  of  the  monastery?  I  must  speak  of  this  mat 
ter  to  them,  and  go  surety  for  Senor  Alcatraz.  A  mis 
take  has  been  made  that  he  should  walk  in  bonds  like 
this.  I  beg  you  have  him  loosed." 

"What  is  this?"  asked  Governor  Otermin  from  the 
portal.  "What  mistake  is  this?" 

"  It  is  witchcraft,  no  less ! "  stated  Marco.  "  This 
lady  is  to  be  my  wife,  our  betrothal  is  of  many  years, 
and  here,  suddenly,  she  claims  she  owes  this  heretic 
Jew  her  friendship  above  all  others!  It  was  known 
that  he  half  bewitched  Don  Payo  ere  he  sailed  away, 
and  this  is  not  the  first  woman  on  whom  he  has  worked 
enchantment!  In  Mexico  he  was  in  league  with  devils 
until  they  fear  to  use  for  the  altars  even  the  pictures 
he  painted.  That  is  a  truth  that  our  reverend  father 
here  knows  more  of  than  I." 

"  It  is  quite  true,  Excellency,"  said  Padre  Domingo. 
"  He  is  a  man  dangerous  to  the  Holy  Office  because 
of  his  heresies.  When  his  bonds  are  loosed  the  stars 
will  shine  at  midday,  or  you,  proud  maid  of  Llorente  y 
Rivera  will  step  down  to  walk  barefoot  beside  him !  " 

"  But  the  stars  do  shine  at  midday ! "  cried  Sancha, 
with  a  half  triumphant,  half-tearful  note  in  her  voice. 
"  I  saw  it  so  in  a  deep  canon  on  the  way,  and  —  quick 
Wisti,  untie  my  shoe !  " 

"  O  great  soul,  and  loyal  comrade !  "  breathed  Tristan. 
"  Juanito,  let  her  not  touch  the  dust!  " 

Marco  caught  the  head  of  her  horse  to  turn  it. 

"  Let  her  not  shame  herself  here  in  the  eyes  of  your 


THE    INSURRECTION    OF    1680  397 

slaves,  Don  Antonio !  "  he  called.  "  I  tell  you  it  is  a 
witchcraft.  As  the  lady  who  is  to  be  my  wife,  I  claim 
the  right  to  protect  her  from  her  own  madness,  and  I 
ask  the  church  to  aid  against  this  apostate !  " 

"Apostate!  is  it  so?"  said  Sancha  looking  down  at 
Tristan.  "  O  faithful  apostate !  Take  your  hand  from 
my  bridle,  Marco  de  Ordono,  and  choose  better  your 
words.  Neither  betrothal  or  marriage  will  ever  be  be 
tween  you  and  me.  Since  I  must  say  it  before  all  these 
people,  I  say  it ! " 

"  Ay !  "  he  snarled,  catching  her  wrist,  "  why  not  con 
fess  the  rest  —  that  this  accursed  Tristan  has  you 
bound  in  some  spell  of  the  damned  letters  until  you 
would  lower  yourself  to  the  dust  with  him?  " 

"Tristan?  The  letters?"  she  said,  and  stared,  white- 
faced  from  one  to  the  other.  "  Tell  me,  tell  me !  This 
is  Kahn  Alcatraz  —  this  is  —  " 

"  Kahn  —  yes,  the  name  of  a  Jew ! "  said  Marco, 
"  and  Alcatraz,  yes,  the  name  of  Fray  Fernando  Alca 
traz,  his  priestly  father !  But  before  that,  he  was  Tris 
tan,  the  shepherd  of  our  herds!  The  boy  you  hated, 
but  the  man  sent  you  letters  of  witch  charms  until  you 
crossed  the  seas  to  him.  I  see  that  now  — see  all  too 
plainly!  Is  there  no  pride  left  in  you?  Are  you  held 
in  bonds  to  this  outcast?  He  is  convicted  by  church, 
and  outlawed  by  state.  Do  you  still  choose  to  walk 
barefoot  beside  him?" 

"  To  the  end  of  the  world !  "  she  said,  and  more  quick 
than  I  could  see,  she  slipped  the  Navajo  knife  of  ob 
sidian  from  her  belt,  and  sunk  it  into  the  hand  of  Marco 
holding  her  wrist. 

There  was  a  scream  of  pain  from  him,  and  then  an- 


3g8      THE    HOUSE    OF   THE    DAWN 

other,  but  she  neither  heard  or  saw  what  happened 
when  Marco  crumpled  to  the  ground  with  another 
Indio  knife  between  his  shoulders.  Manuel  left  it  there, 
and  like  a  flash  was  beside  her  as  she  slipped  to  the 
ground,  and  cut  the  bonds  of  Tristan. 

"  O  Glory  of  God !  "  Tristan  cried  as  her  arms  circled 
his  shoulders.  "  White  Virgo  come  to  earth  for  me !  " 

But  above  the  surging  tumult,  the  terrible  voice  of 
Padre  Domingo  sounded  in  my  ears  as  echo  of  the  ter 
rible  bell. 

"  Seize  that  shameless  woman  for  the  trial  of  Holy 
Faith ! "  he  thundered.  "  No  rank  of  earth  can  save 
her  here  in  New  Granada!  She  shall  indeed  walk  beside 
him  in  the  dust  —  walk  excommunicated,  and  in  chains 
—  to  the  flaming  staJfe!  " 

So  sudden  was  all  the  rest  that  no  one  could  tell  who 
gave  signal  for  battle;  yet  Manuel  did  make  curious 
call  as  Marco  fell  there  in  his  tracks  before  the  portal, 
and  at  sound  of  that  call  it  seemed  the  very  earth 
swarmed  Indians.  They  dropped  from  the  flat  roofs 
by  the  score,  while  the  Padre  shouted,  and  like  a  red 
wave  of  war,  they  launched  themselves  between  Man 
uel  and  the  guard.  I  saw  Tristan  with  Sancha  in  his 
arms  crowded  farther  and  farther  away  by  the  mob  of 
fanatic  Indians  who  had  been  placid  servers  a  moment 
before,  and  were  now  reckless  warriors. 

The  guard  was  swept  back  against  the  wall  of  the 
governor's  palace,  and  then  we  knew  indeed  that  the 
Tesuque  men  had  brought  the  truth.  The  pent-up  rage 
of  fifty  years  was  loosed  by  that  knife  stroke  of  Manuel, 
and  the  most  terrible  insurrection  of  all  the  colonies 
was  precipitated  by  a  private  hate. 


CHAPTER  XXII 
UNDER  BLESSINGS  OF  PAGAN  GODS 

ONE  dear  memory  comes  out  of  that  surging 
hell  in  the  plaza  of  Santa  Fe.  Sancha  remem 
bered  me,  even  in  the  arms  of  Tristan,  and 
her  voice  came  high  and  clear  where  we  beat 
off  the  wild  devils  from  the  portal  of  the  palace. 

"Juanito!  Juanito  mine!  adios!" 

"  Adios !  O  Sanchita !  "  I  called,  and  leaned,  panting, 
and  battered,  against  the  wall.  Padre  Domingo  stag 
gered  back,  and  fell,  bleeding  like  an  ox,  from  a  swift 
blade  in  the  side. 

"  You  too !  "  he  said  with  lifted  hand  of  condemna 
tion.  "  Her  name  is  blotted  out  from  Christian  souls 
forever!  Bear  you  the  word  to  Mexico  —  excommuni 
cation!  " 

Then,  with  his  hand  dipped  in  his  own  blood,  he  drew 
the  sacred  sign  on  the  stone  paving,  and  strove  to  lay 
himself  on  it,  but  fell  there,  dead  ere  Fray  Francisco 
could  reach  him.  Thus  Padre  Domingo  indeed  found 
the  martyrdom  they  say  he  coveted. 

Once  only  after  that  had  I  glimpse  of  my  lost  com 
rades.  Manuel  had  striven  to  lead  them  out  of  the  mob 
of  the  street  by  way  of  the  church  of  San  Miguel,  but 
the  sacristy  door  was  barred,  and  there  was  delay  long 
enough  for  word  to  reach  us  that  the  church  was  seized 

399 


400      THE    HOUSE    OF    THE    DAWN 

as  a  fortress  by  the  infidels.  Extra  troops  had  joined 
the  prison  guard,  and  the  red  swarm  launching  itself 
in  disorder  to  free  the  convicted  men,  found  itself  giv 
ing  way  under  the  solid  front  of  the  governor's  soldiery. 
Back  and  back,  they  went  with  face  to  the  foe,  covering 
with  lance  and  knife  the  trail  of  Tristan  and  others  of 
the  cuartel.  I  reached  the  door  as  the  relief  soldiery 
entered.  Indians  were  using  a  broken  altar  as  a  bat 
tering  ram  to  break  through  the  sacristy  door,  and 
there,  on  the  altar  place  in  the  dim  church,  stood  Tris 
tan  with  an  Indian  spear  in  his  grasp,  and  his  arm 
around  her.  One  niche  at  the  side  held  a  statute  of 
the  Holy  Mother,  where  three  candles  burned,  and  the 
light  from  it  touched  the  white  dress  of  Sancha,  and 
the  white  banda  on  the  head  of  Tristan.  Only  a  gleam 
of  her  white  dress  showed,  for  he  had  wrapped  about 
her  a  gray  robe.  A  moment  later  I  saw  how  that  had 
chanced,  for  I  stumbled  over  a  lay  brother  stripped 
and  dead  on  the  stone  floor. 

Then  the  door  at  the  back  gave  way,  and  the  Indians 
rushed  into  the  light,  while  the  walls  echoed  the  ex 
plosion  from  the  firing  pieces. 

"  Save  the  man  and  woman  alive !  "  called  Fray  Fran 
cisco.  "  The  blood  of  God's  anointed  is  on  his  head, 
and  the  woman  makes  her  choice  of  perdition  with  him ! 
Save  them  alive !  " 

But  they  should  have  known  that  if  those  two  were 
saved  alive,  it  must  be  in  freedom.  I  saw  them  go  out 
the  door,  and  in  all  the  smoke  and  turmoil  and  dead 
and  wounded  about  them,  her  face  was  lifted  to  his  — 
exalted  as  if  to  welcome  even  death  beside  him! 

Manuel  was  also  there,  thus  I  saw  that  from  the  first 


The  Excommunicated  Lovers. 


BLESSINGS    OF    PAGAN    GODS    401 

signal  for  death  in  the  plaza  he  had  never  wavered 
from  the  trust  he  had  given  himself. 

After  that  there  were  ten  days  of  hell  with  the  tribes 
swarming  from  the  hills  after  the  killing  of  all  priests 
of  the  pueblos.  They  came,  flushed  with  victory,  from 
north  and  south,  to  aid  against  the  capital,  where  we 
fortified  as  best  we  could,  making  short  dashes  out  with 
small  success.  The  plaza  ran  red  with  blood  of  the 
prisoners  taken,  which  served  us  little.  On  every  side 
we  were  surrounded.  A  thousand  people  to  protect, 
counting  women  and  children,  and  less  than  two  hun 
dred  fighting  men  to  do  it  with.  Three  thousand  bar 
barians  sang  their  songs,  danced  their  victory  dances  on 
the  hills,  and  cut  us  off  from  the  water.  We  killed  more 
than  they,  but  of  what  use  was  it,  when  the  various 
tribes  stood  ready  to  send  other  bands  to  the  siege  as 
needed?  We  could  not  know  it  until  long  after,  but 
eighteen  priests  were  slaughtered  in  New  Granada  in 
that  week,  and  every  Castilian  farmer  and  his  family. 

On  the  tenth  day  after  the  Tesuque  men  risked  lives 
to  warn  the  people  of  Santa  Fe  to  go  south,  and  go  at 
once,  there  was  a  very  sorry  cavalcade  of  us  who  took 
that  trail  —  ten  days  too  late!  The  barbarians  sat  on 
the  hills,  and  watched  us  go  in  peace  after  all  the  hor 
rors.  All  they  asked  was  the  Indian  land  for  the  Indio. 

But  they  sent  warriors  to  follow  us,  thirty  leagues 
on  the  way,  that  we  gain  no  courage  from  reinforce 
ments  to  turn  back  on  the  trail. 

A  dreary  march  was  ours,  with  not  enough  horses 
for  even  the  sick  and  wounded,  and  dreary  the  winter 
for  us  in  the  huts  we  built  for  shelter  south  at  San 
Lorenzo. 


402      THE    HOUSE    OF    THE    DAWN 

A  year  later,  I  went  north  again  with  General 
Mendoza,  only  to  be  turned  back  by  the  warring 
infidels.  Governor  Otermin,  as  he  had  anticipated,  was 
removed  from  office,  and  Governor  Ramirez  appointed, 
but  he  would  risk  no  men  in  the  north  lands.  In  eighty- 
eight  I  again  entered  the  forbidden  land  with  General 
Cruzate,  a  considerable  army,  and  seventy  priests  for 
mission  work,  yet  we  were  turned  back  at  Zia  after 
many  skirmishes,  and  ceremonial  councils  with  many 
chiefs. 

One  chief  came  who  was  gorgeous  in  cloth  of  scarlet 
and  otter  skins.  All  Spanish  names  and  customs  and 
religion  had  been  wiped  from  the  land,  thus  I  dared 
not  call  him  Manuel,  who  had  been  trapper  of  eagles  in 
the  Jemez  hills.  I  have  changed,  as  all  men  do  if  the 
years  are  hard ;  and  while  he  looked  at  me  much,  I  had 
no  sign  that  he  had  ever  looked  on  me  before,  and  he 
betrayed  no  knowledge  of  Spanish  speech. 

But  I  remembered  the  twin  feathers  and  their  mark 
ings,  and  idly,  during  the  council,  I  took  from  a  hawk's 
wing  fan  the  broad  brown  feather,  and,  little  by  little, 
without  turning  a  glance  his  way,  I  trimmed  it  in  four 
spaces  divided  curiously  on  the  quill. 

I  twirled  it  idly,  while  the  general,  and  the  priests, 
and  chiefs,  held  weighty  converse,  and  I  left  it  on  the 
seat  when  the  council  was  ended.  As  idly  as  I,  he 
lifted  it  as  he  passed,  and  went  out  without  word  or 
look  to  me. 

It  was  two  nights  later  when  that  which  the  guard 
said  was  incredible,  occurred.  A  boy,  who  carried  a 
message  for  me,  was  challenged  by  the  sentry  and  my 
name  was  written  plainly  on  a  strip  of  fine  parchment, 


BLESSINGS    OF    PAGAN     GODS  403 


such  as  was  used  for  church  records.  He  spoke  no 
Spanish,  but  when  we  were  alone,  took  from  under  his 
blanket  a  roll  of  the  same,  well  fastened  in  a  painted 
case.  There  was  no  address  (it  was  like  their  care  for 
me!)  and  it  read: 

At  the  House  of  the  Dawn. 
Brother  Mine: 

I  truly  live  here  in  the  ancient  place  of  sanctuary  not  other 
wise  to  be  named.  Each  time  you  have  come  to  the  forbidden 
land  we  have  known  it.  Come  not  again,  lest  all  our  love  should 
not  save  you.  We  are  outcasts  and  happy.  Have  you  memory 
of  a  marriage  night  in  the  magic  Navajo  land?  Such  simple 
marriage  was  ours  with  Indio  witnesses,  and  it  has  grown 
more  sacred  with  each  of  the  years.  To  only  you  could  I  say 
it  — and  not  to  you  again.  Has  the  Holy  Office  weakened  in 
power  that  the  excommunicated  dare  be  sought  in  friendship? 
This  you  must  answer  to  yourself,  and  bear  in  mind  that  a  task 
is  yours  for  which  you  need  smiles  of  church  and  state.  The 
honor  of  the  family  is  yours  to  preserve  —  and  it  is  a  family  of 
old  names,  and  great  pride. 

For  the  nameless  one  who  stepped  out  (I  cannot  say  down, 
brother  mine!)  you  must  have  no  sorrow,  and  no  doubt.  We 
have  all  the  world  to  wander  in,  yet  we  remain  happily  in  this 
land  of  enchantings.  Here  we  build  our  own  shrines  and  make 
our  sacrifices.  The  stars  of  the  Desert  are  above,  and  we  have 
more  books  than  you  ever  read,  for  the  padres  were  often 
learned  men,  and  their  written  knowledge  remains  in  this  for 
bidden  land  for  us. 

Our  days  are  not  idle;  the  work  he  did  of  old,  he  does  here, 
and  every  star,  with  its  guardian  god,  is  made  record  of  in  the 
two  tongues.  Their  herbs  of  medicine,  their  words  of  the  laws, 
all  these,  with  the  legends  of  ancestry,  and  even  records  of 
earth-born  gods,  he  has  written  as  work  of  joy. 

I  tell  you  this  that  you  know  we  lack  no  thing  of  content  in 
our  high  place  of  the  dawn  prayers.  And  if  men  of  Spain  should 
some  day  re-conquer  —  there  will  be  other  trails  for  us,  and  the 


404     THE    HOUSE    OF    THE    DAWN 

world  is  wide.  Here  the  intrigues  of  church  and  courts  are  far 
away.  I  wear  boots  made  by  his  hand,  and  a  pet  fawn  is  by  me 
as  I  write.  It  looks  like  your  pretty  gift  across  the  seas;  for 
that  it  is  dear  —  and  for  the  other  reason,  not  to  be  named. 

Of  him  I  can  no  more  write  than  could  I  of  God  the  Father. 
But  my  Saint  of  the  Impossible  caused  the  unbelievable  thing 
to  be,  and  for  that  a  shrine  is  built  to  her  here  on  the  hills  of 
New  Granada  —  it  faces  the  east,  and  Old  Spain.  We  write 
your  name  there  for  happiness ! 

You  seek  us,  beloved  one  —  to  save  us,  or  serve  us.  Go  back 
and  take  up  your  burden  of  the  world.  I  have  confession  to 
make.  I  have  seen  you  once,  and  been  very  close,  and  made  no 
sign.  I  heard  his  name  spoken,  and  the  tale  of  his  evil  deeds. 
Thus  also,  I  learned  that  my  own  name  is  blotted  out  from 
Christian  speech.  A  young  soldier  sang  by  the  camp  fire,  the 
song  of  "  Dona  Perdida  "  as  he  said  they  sing  it  in  Mexico. 
Never  let  it  hurt  your  heart,  dear  brother-comrade.  My  soul 
was  not  lost  in  the  Desert  —  it  was  there  I  found  it! 

This  is  sent  for  your  own  soul's  content. 

Then,  instead  of  a  name,  there  was  a  butterfly  drawn 
with  folded  wings,  and  under  it  was  the  sign  he  taught 
her  to  make  in  the  canon  of  the  Divine  Ones. 

And  on  the  other  side  of  the  parchment  were  his 
words 

Comrade  of  ours: 

You,  who  live  by  your  rank  and  order,  dare  not  approve,  yet 
the  content  of  her  heart  is  my  justification.  The  blessing  of 
neither  pope  or  priest  could  make  more  white  the  loyal  soul  of 
her. 

For  myself,  I  am  learning  (as  no  man  could  learn  in  another 
place)  the  strivings  of  primitive  priests  from  the  time  the  Spirit 
of  God  moved  on  the  face  of  the  waters  until  the  records  were 
made,  thought  by  thought,  which  we  are  taught  is  the  word  of 
the  living  God.  Here,  today,  these  red  priests  strive,  in  like 
ways  of  fastings  and  prayers,  and  sacrifice,  to  learn  the  Power 


BLESSINGS    OF    PAGAN     G  O  D  S  405 

back  of  all  earth  power,  and  go  up  daily  to  search  for  their  gods 
on  the  heights. 

There  is  work  here  for  a  pen  through  a  long  lifetime.  We 
strive  to  do  our  little  share,  ere  we  find  deeper  wilderness,  or 
wider  range. 

To  you,  until  the  end,  the  blessings  of  the  Divine  Ones,  and 
all  the  stars  of  light  above  the  trails  you  tread. 

Tristan. 

I  read  the  blessing  of  his,  over  and  over,  and  was 
reminded  of  the  prayer  chant  in  the  sacred  canon  of  the 
Ancient  Gods: 

Impervious  to  pain,  I  walk! 
With  beauty  before  me,  I  walk! 
With  beauty  above  me,  I  walk! 
Happily  may  the  roads  all 
Find  the  way  of  peace, 
And  the  ways  all  end  in  beauty! 

So  I  have  that  last  message  of  theirs  for  my  com 
fort,  and  the  other  letters  hidden  in  the  stone  shrine 
of  Sonora  were  brought  back  by  me  on  the  last  trail 
from  the  north.  I  know  well  she  did  grieve  their  loss, 
but  it  is  beyond  my  power  to  have  them  go  to  her. 

Meanwhile  I  am  learning  many  things  of  the  French 
and  English  and  Dutch  lands  of  this  new  world.  There 
is  a  great  north,  and  a  wide  east,  where  they  may  find 
safety  when  the  time  comes. 

With  Dona  Mercedes  I  talk  of  these  chances  at  times, 
and  of  what  might  happen  if  some  day  I  should  get 
word  to  meet  them  on  the  other  side  of  the  world! 
Dona  Mercedes  is  a  woman  of  heart,  who  remembers 
our  youth,  and  knew  the  heaviness  of  my  task  when  I 


406     THE    HOUSE    OF   THE    DAWN 

bore  the  dying  command  of  Padre  Domingo  to  the 
bishop  of  Mexico,  and  heard  the  excommunication  from 
the  altar.  For  awhile  I  had  my  own  troubles  with  the 
Brotherhood,  but  Fray  Payo  reached  a  strong  hand 
across  the  seas  to  help.  Since  all  the  men  of  importance, 
from  the  archbishop  and  viceroy  down,  had  held  Tris 
tan,  at  some  time,  more  or  less  in  favor,  I  was  finally 
cleared  of  evil  intent  for  accepting  freedom  at  his 
hands ;  also  my  blood  relationship  to  the  excommuni 
cated  maid  of  beauty  was  at  last  condoned  as  no  fault 
of  mine. 

But  though  she  is  called  "  Dona  Perdida,"  and  they 
sing  today  love  songs  of  their  mutual  enchantings  and 
of  his  wickedness,  I  close  my  eyes,  and  remember  only 
her  joyous  voice  intoning  in  the  desert  nights, 

O  you! 

Who  dwell 

In  the  House  of  the  Dawn! 

In  the  House  of  Evening  Twilight 

The  Path  to  which  is  the  Rainbow — 

And  I  know  in  truth  that  he  led  her  into  a  Dawn  be 
yond  the  shadows  where  we  grope. 

In  memory  I  go  again  over  the  many  wonder  places 
of  the  long  trail,  and  live  again,  with  my  comrades, 
the  life  of  desert  ranges  and  canon  deeps,  but  the  pic 
ture  clearest  in  my  mind  is  of  those  two  in  borrowed 
robes  at  the  edge  of  a  cliff  in  Tusayan. 

Boy  as  I  was,  I  was  vaguely  touched  there  by  the 
force  he  strove  against,  and  the  enchantment  our  Sancha 
dared  not  confess.  Voiceless  they  were,  yet  bound  — 
so  great  a  love  it  was  —  by  bonds  defying  even  fears  of 


BLESSINGS    OF    PAGAN    GODS    407 

hell.  Though  the  padres  do  deny  them  sanctification, 
deep  in  my  heart  —  and  I  cross  myself  as  I  write  it  — 
there  lingers  ever  the  message  sent  to  me  out  of  the 
Desert,  "  The  blessing  of  neither  pope  nor  priest  could 
make  more  white  the  loyal  soul  of  her." 


The  End 


-Howoti 
BOOTH 


™  REGIONAL  LIBRARY  FACILITY 


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